


The reason of why you should carry on

by Lepketarka



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha Sherlock Holmes, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Omega John Watson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:36:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 20,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26818930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lepketarka/pseuds/Lepketarka
Summary: John returned from the army. He is damaged, depressed and lonely. Will he find something or somebody for help him trough?Sherlock denied his alpha for a long time. It wasn't a good idea.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 51
Kudos: 174





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very firs writing. The chapter is really short, because I am not really good in English, I had to translate everything I wrote, so I am trying. Be patient. Excuses for the grammar.

The room was cold and dark. Only a bed and a desk were in it. Doesn't matter. He didn't planned settle down for a long term. He watched the gun on the desk. How pathetic. He survived the war, and what for? His parents are dead. His sister is an alcoholic, and don't want to see him. They never understood why he wanted to go to the army. An omega... To be an army doctor. He wanted to be brave, strong, proud and independent. And what is he now? A depressed, broken soldier. He glanced his cane in the corner of the bed. He limped, since the shot. He is not a soldier, nor an omega anymore. He was taking experimental suppressants, to disguise his gender. The drugs prevented his heats, and then he realised, he slowly damaged his own body. He doesn't even have a smell at all. He is getting older, with no chance to get an alpha, pups, family... His parents would be so disappointed. Why would be worth staying alive anymore? He is so lonely. He reached for the gun, when his phone chirped.

"I heard you are demilitarized. Wanna meet for a coffee?"-Mike Stamford  
Mike Stamford? His old buddy. How the hell he knows he is here? He put the gun down.  
"Of course. When and where?"-John Watson.

They met in a park. Mike doesn't changed. He was the same puffy, kindly smiling guy.  
"So, how do you know, I am back?" John inquired.  
"A little bird told me. You looks good." John doubt that. Mike poked with his head towards John's cane. "I see you are limping. Foot shot?"  
"No." Mike made a wondering face, but didn't pushed further. "You know I was in the army. What's new with you?"  
"Oh. Nothing exciting. The same squirrel wheel day by day. My mate is pregnant by the way." John's heart heavily dropped.  
"Good for you. Congratulations." He tried to smile.  
"Thanks." Mike suddenly stopped walking, like he had a very good idea. "Would you like to visit St. Bart's?"


	2. Chapter 2

Sherlock Holmes wasn't an ordinary alpha. He desperately tried to suppress every instinct, what his inner alpha tried convince. He didn't act territorial, nor get interested about omegas... Dull, useless gender, really. However, he had an omega friend once, Victor Trevor. He was charming, funny, clever even. But when they used to get older, things changed. Sherlock started to feel strange desires, he wanted to possess. His parents told him, it's natural. Sherlock don't wanted this feelings. Especially, when Victor told him, he is not that kind of alpha, as any omega would want.  
"What's wrong with me?"  
"Nothing is wrong with you." Mummy told him.  
But something definitely was.  
Victor wanted to Sherlock fight over with other alphas for him. Sherlock said, it's an unnecessary display of power. He rather used his brain. He craved for puzzles, mystery cases. Victor didn't understand him. None of the omegas could. He stopped try to understand with them. When desire started to outgrow him, he tried to rid it with cocaine. It worked... For a while.  
Later, he started to work with the Scotland Yard, as a consulting detective. It helped him to keep his feelings in check.  
"It's dangerous, Sherlock." His brother told him.  
"I don't care." 

Suddenly Mike Stamford walked in the door, and a short, blond man limped after him. His smell was neutral. Interesting.  
Mike was a beta and smelled like doughnuts, looked like a doughnut. This man however...  
"Mike, can I borrow your phone? There is no signal on mine." Sherlock asked unexpectedly.  
"And what's wrong with the landline?"  
"I prefer to text."  
"Sorry, it is in my coat." Mike said, and Sherlock of course, knew it.  
"Here, use mine." The short man offered his own. That was Sherlock wanted. The man came closer, and gave Sherlock his phone.  
"Oh, thank you."  
"This is an old friend of mine, John Watson." Mike introduced his buddy.  
Sherlock looked him thoroughly and sniffed. Still nothing. How odd.  
"Afghanistan or Iraq?"  
"Sorry?" John asked surprised.  
"Which was it, in Afghanistan or Iraq?" He hated to repeat himself. Is this man really so dumb?  
"Afghanistan, sorry, how did you know?"  
John heard the door opening, and a young woman with brown pigtail came in.  
"Ah, Molly! Coffee, thank you!"  
She gave him the coffee, when Sherlock asked.  
"What happened to the lipstick?"  
"It wasn't working for me." Molly answered shyly as watched him with big, bright eyes.  
"Really? It was a big improvement. Your mouth is too small now."  
"Ok." Poor girl. She was embarrassed.  
"What an asshole." Thought John. Molly clearly interested about him. Is he blind?  
"How do you feel about the violin?" John frowned as watched the woman leave.  
"I'm sorry, what?"  
Sherlock sighed. Is it that complicated? Ordinary people...  
"I play the violin when I'm thinking and sometimes I don't talk for days on end. Would that bother you? Potential flatmates should know the worst about each other."  
"Who said anything about flatmates?" John was confused.  
"I did. Told Mike this morning that I must be a difficult man to find a flatmate for." You? Difficult? I'll rather live with a three headed giant dog. Watson wasn't sure where all this is goes out. "Now here he is just after lunch with an old friend clearly just home from military service in Afghanistan. Wasn't a difficult leap."  
John was curious.  
"How did you know about Afghanistan?"  
"Got my eyes on a nice little place in central London. We ought to be able to afford it. We'll meet there tomorrow evening, seven o'clock. Sorry, I got to dash. I think I left my riding crop in the mortuary."  
What riding crop? Is this guy some kind of pervert? John screamed inside. He is gonna kill Mike for this. He don't want a flatmate. He don't even wanna move out his actual flat. What is Mike planning in his head?  
"Is that it?" Asked John finally.  
"Is that what?"  
"We've only just met and we are going to go and look a flat?" Ridiculous.  
"Problem?"  
"We don't know a thing about each other. I don't even know your name."

"I know you are an army doctor and you've been invalided home from Afghanistan. I know that your limp is psychosomatic... and I know, that you are an omega for sure." John froze. The hell? How did he? "That's enough to be going on with, don't you think?"

The man walk to the door and opened it.  
"The name is Sherlock Holmes and the adress is 221B Baker Street. Afternoon." He left, and John only could stare at Mike, who just smiled.  
"Yes, he is allways like that."


	3. Chapter 3

"What the hell I am doing here?" John asked himself. He stood before 221B Baker Street. The area seemed nice and the flat itself looked good from outside, but he originally didn't planned move out his previous place. "And now here I am."  
He was thinking about suicide yesterday... What has changed? He desperately tried to hold on anything to frees him from nightmares, self pity and the throbbing pain in his leg.  
Mike probably wanted to bring him together with this alpha, Sherlock Holmes. Yes, he has to be an alpha. However John didn't smell anyone since the suppressants, every aspect of Holmes shouted he is one of them. He was handsome, but a dickhead as well. John didn't need and alpha patron, but maybe he has a chance for a better life.  
A cab stopped and Sherlock Holmes got out of it in his black coat.  
"Ah. Mr. Homes!"  
"Sherlock, please!" They shook hands. The man has manners in spite of that.  
"Well, this is a prime spot. Must be expensive."  
"Mrs Hudson, the landlady given me a special deal. Owes me a favour. A few years back, her husband got himself sentenced to death in Florida. I was able to help out."  
"You stopped her husband being executed?"  
"Oh, no, I ensured it." John eyes widened. Who I mingled with?  
The entrance of the flat opened, and Mrs Hudson welcomed them. Sherlock stepped forward and ran up the stairs. He waited until John slowly limped after him, then led him around the flat.  
"Well, this could be very nice." John looked around. "Soon as we get all this rubbish cleaned out."  
"Well, obviously I can, erm… straighten things up a bit." Sherlock started to packing.  
"So, this is all yours." What a messy alpha. "That's a scull." John pointed over the fireplace.  
"Friend of mine. When I say friend..."  
I would never be your friend. John horrified inside.  
"What do you think then Dr. Watson?" Mrs. Hudson inquired. "There is another bedroom upstairs, if you'll be needing two bedrooms."  
"Of course we'll be needing two." It looked like Mike and Mrs. Hudson conspired against him.  
"Oh, don't worry, there is all sorts round here. Mrs. Turner next doors got married ones."  
Instead of explaining, John dropped himself on one of the armchair in front of the fireplace.  
"I looked you up on the internet last night." John told Sherlock.  
"Anything interesting?"  
"Found your website. The Science of Deduction."  
"What do you think?" Sherlock straightened himself, but frowned, when John pursed his lips.  
"You said, you could identify a software designer by his tie and an airline pilot by his left thumb?"  
"Yes. And I can reed you military career in you face and in your leg, and I can tell your gender without a smell of it.  
"How?" Sherlock didn't answered so Mrs. Hudson interrupted.  
"What about these suicides then, Sherlock? I thought that would be right up your street. Three exactly the same.  
Sherlock looked out the window.  
"Four. There's been a fourth and there's something different this time."  
Soon an excited, grey haired man appeared in their flat.  
"Where?" Sherlock asked him.  
"Brixton, Lauriston Gardens."  
"What's new about this one? You wouldn't have come to me otherwise."  
"You know how they never leave notes. Well, this one did. Will you come?"  
Sherlock seemed to be considering.  
"Who's on forensics?"  
"Anderson."  
"He doesn't work well with me" he annoyed.  
"Well, he won't be your assistant."  
"I need an assistant."  
"Will you come?"  
"Not in a police car. I'll be right behind."  
"Thank you." The grey haired man bowed his head, and left in a hurry.  
Sherlock burst out with cheering.  
"Brilliant! Yes! Four serial suicides and now a note. Oh, it's Christmas. Mrs. Hudson, I'll be late. Might need some food."  
"I'm your landlady, not your housekeeper."  
"Something cold will do. John, have a cup of tea, make yourself at home. Don't wait up."  
John tried to follow the events, and got interested about the case, became disappointed to left behind. How could be useful? Meanwhile Mrs. Hudson kept chirping.  
"Look at him, dashing about... My husband was just the same. But you are more the sitting-down type, I can tell. I'll make you that cuppa, you rest your leg."  
John got angry, feeling himself useless.  
"Damn my leg!" He shouted. "Sorry, I'm so sorry. It's just sometimes this bloody thing..."  
"I understand, dear, I've got a hip." She went to the kitchen and John started to read the newspaper Mrs. Hudson left on the table.  
"You are a doctor." A deep voice interrupted him. "In fact, you are an army doctor." Sherlock stood in the door.  
"Yes." John immediately got up from the armchair.  
"Any good?"  
"Very good."  
Sherlock got closer to him.  
"Seen a lot of injuries, then. Violent deaths."  
"Well, yes."  
"Bit of trouble too, I bet."  
"Of course, yes. Enough for a lifetime, far too much."  
"Want to see more?"  
"Oh, God, yes."


	4. Chapter 4

Few minutes later they sat in a cab on they way to Brixton.  
John was silent, but Sherlock felt, he is restless.  
"You've got questions...  
"Yeah, where are we going?"  
"Crime scene. Next?"  
"Who are you, what do you do?"  
"What do you think?"  
"I'd say private detective. But the police don't go to private detectives."  
"I'm a consulting detective." John never heard about consulting detectives before. "Only one in the world, I invented the job." He sound proud.  
"What does that mean?"  
"Means when the police are out of their depth, which is always, they consult me."  
"The police don't consult with amateurs." That hurts. How could John think he is an amateur?  
"When I met you for the first time, I said Afghanistan or Iraq. You looked surprised."  
"Yes, how did you knew?"  
"I didn't knew, I saw. Your haircut, the way you hold yourself says military. You trained at Bart's, so army doctor, obvious. Your face is tanned, but no tan abroad the wrists. You've been abroad, but no sunbathing. Your limp is really bad when you walk, but you don't ask for a chair when you stand like you forgotten about it, so it's at least partly psychosomatic. That says the original circumstances of the injury were traumatic, wounded in action then. Wounded in action, suntan-Afghanistan or Iraq."  
"And my gender?"  
"Simple. You don't have a smell. It's not natural, you needed to cover it with drugs. Why would an alpha or a beta covet their scent? You were right. The police don't consult amateurs." He proven. He proven John, he is a clever alpha.  
"That was amazing" praised John.  
Sherlock's alpha winced harder. Sherlock didn't liked it... at all.  
"Do you think so?"  
"Of course, it was extraordinary."  
"That's not what people normally say."  
"What do people normally say?"  
"Piss off"  
John giggled, and Sherlock's chest swelled. He was in big trouble. 

The lady, named Jennifer Wilson, lay on the wooden floor. He was dressed in pink to the feet. The grey haired inspector, Lestrade provided details about the circumstances of her death. Sherlock closely observed the body.  
"Got anything?" asked Lestrade.  
"Not much" and here comes the showing off. "She's from out of town. Intended to stay in London for one night before returning home to Cardiff. Dr Watson, what do you think?"  
John squatted down to the body.  
"Asphyxiation, probably. Passed out, choked on her own vomit. It could have been a seizure. Possibly drugs."  
"Sherlock, I need anything you got." told the inspector.  
"Victim is in her late 30's. Professional person, going by her clothes. I'm guessing the media, going by the frankly alarming shade of pink. Travelled from Cardiff today intending to stay in London one night from the size of her suitcase. She's been married at least ten years, but not happily. She had lovers, but non of them knew she was married. The rest of her jewellery has been regularly cleaned, but not her wedding ring. The inside is shinier than the outside. The only polishing it gets when she works it off her finger. She doesn't work with her hands, look at her nails, so why does she remove her ring for? Not one lover, she'd never sustain the fiction of being single for that long time, so more likely a string of them. Simple."  
"Brilliant!" John was amazed.  
"Cardiff?" Lestrade pushed further.  
"Her coat slightly damp, she's been in heavy rain the last few hours. No rain anywhere in London that time. Under her coat the collar is damp too. She's turned it up against the wind. She' got an umbrella in her pocket but it's dry and unused. Wind was too strong to use her umbrella. We know from her suitcase that she was intending to stay overnight but she can't have travelled more than two or three hours because her coat still hasn't dried. Where has there been heavy rain and strong wind within the radius of that travel time?" Sherlock shoved his phone to Lestrade. "Cardiff."  
"Fantastic!" John praised him again. Sherlock's alpha felt far so pleased. It was unpleasant.  
"Do you know you do that out loud?"  
"Sorry, I'll shut up."  
"No, it's fine."  
"Why do you keep saying suitcase?" Lestrade interrupted.  
"Yes, where is it?"  
"There wasn't a case."  
Sherlock was sure, it has to be somewhere, so he ran out, and asked about it from the others outside.  
"There was no case!" Lestrade shouted after him.  
"Of course she had a suitcase. Someone else was here, and took it. So the killer must have driven here. Forgot the case was in the car."  
"She could have checked in a hotel, left it there" guessed John.  
"No, look at her hair. She'd never have left any hotel with her hair still looking..." Something got in Sherlock's mind. "Oh... Serial killers, always hard. You have to wait for them to make a mistake."  
"We can't just wait." said Lestrade.  
"Oh, we are done waiting. Look at her, really look! Houston, we have a mistake! Get on to Cardiff! Find out who Jennifer Wilson's family and friend were...  
Sherlock ran away despite Lestrade still shouted questions after him.  
John was left alone.


	5. Chapter 5

Sherlock went to find the suitcase, and he found it of course, it wasn't so complicated. Of course she had a suitcase! He thought of the message Jennifer Wilson scratched in the wooden floor with her own nails: Rache... Rachel. Who is Rachel? It wasn't suicide. It was a murder. This serial killer is very interesting. John must find the killer interesting too. John... In his excitement left the doctor behind. His inner alpha started to feel restless. "Call him home!" Sherlock sent a text for John. The detective believed John's gender won't be a problem, because it damaged, but still his alpha acted strange in his presence. Company seemed a good idea, he could talk about the cases not only with the scull. He didn't count John would raise his alpha's awareness. Maybe because John valued his intellect as others have not. Sherlock put on himself few nicotine patches to silence his wolf inside. He laid on the couch and immersed in his mind.

When he opened his eyes, he saw John leaned over him.  
"What are you doing?"  
"Use nicotine patch. Helps me think."  
"Is that three patches?"  
"It's a three-patch problem."  
"It doesn't do any good for you."  
"Oh, don't worry about me."  
"I'm not worried. You left me in Brixton!" John seemed angry.  
"I had to find the case."  
"Did you?" Sherlock, as usual, doesn't answered unnecessary questions.  
"I need you to send a text from your phone, my number is recognisable, it's on the website. on my desk there's a number. Enter it in your phone." With a sight, John started to typing. "These words exactly: What happened is Lauriston Gardens? I must have blacked out. 22 Northumberland Street, please come. Type and send it quickly." He stood and put up a pink suitcase on a chair.  
"How?" John was surprised.  
"By looking."  
"Where?"  
"The killer must have driven her to Lauriston Gardens. He could only keep her case by an accident if it was in the car. Nobody could be seen it without drawing attention-particularly a man, which is statistically more likely. So he'd feel compelled to get rid of it. Wouldn't have taken him more than a five minutes to realise his mistake. I checked every backstreet wide enough for a car five minutes from Lauriston Gardens, and anywhere you could dispose of a bulky object without being observed. Took me less than an our to find the right skip."  
"Pink. You got all that because you realised the case would be pink?"  
"It had to be pink. Obviously."  
"Why didn't I think of that?"  
"Because you are an idiot." Don't call him that!- something in him growled. John looked offended. "No, no, no, don't look like that. Practically everyone is. Now look, what is it missing?"  
"From the case? I don't know."  
"Her phone. Where is her mobile phone? We know, she had one. You just texted it."  
"Maybe she left it at home." Sherlock was annoyed John always tried to find easy explanations to his questions.  
"She has a string of lovers and she's careful about it. She never leaves her phone at home."  
"Why did I just send that text?"  
"Well, the question is where is her phone now?"  
"She could have lost it."  
"Yes, or?"  
"The murderer... You think the murderer has her phone?"  
"Maybe she left it when she left the case. Maybe he took it from her for some reason. Either way, the balance of the probability is the murderer has her phone."  
"Did I just text a murderer?" Frowned John. "What good will that do?" Suddenly his phone started to ringing.  
"A few hours after his last victim, and now he receives a text that can only be from her. If somebody just found that phone they'd ignore a text like that, but the murderer would panic." Sherlock jumped up and took his coat.  
"Have you talked to the police?"  
"Four people are dead, there isn't time to talk to the police."  
"So why are you talking to me? "  
"Mrs Hudson took my skull."  
"So, I'm basically filling in for your skull?"  
"Relax, you doing fine" Sherlock smiled at John's annoyance. "Well?"  
"Well, what?"  
"Well you could just sit here and watch telly..."  
"You want me to come with you?"  
"I like company when I go out, and I think better when I talk aloud." And my alpha is calmer, when you are around.


	6. Chapter 6

They went to a nice little Italian restaurant, sat at the table next to a window, where from Sherlock could keep an eye on 22 Northumberland Street. The detective was sure, the murderer would show up again, 'cause he needs audience, applause... He haunts in the middle of the city. His victims disappeared from busy streets, but nobody saw them go. Who do we trust, even though we don't know them? Who passes unnoticed wherever they go?   
The restaurant's owner, named Angelo appeared at their table.  
"Sherlock! Anything from the menu, whatever you want, free. On the house, for you and for your date."  
"I'm not his date!" John denied vehemently. Angelo didn't bothered himself, and told John how Sherlock saved him from prison.  
"Anything happening opposite?" Sherlock constantly watched out from the window.  
"Nothing" Angelo answered. "But for this man, I'd have gone to prison. I'll get a candle of the table. It's more romantic." He winked at John as he leaved.   
"You may as well eat. We might have a long wait."  
"You should eat as well. You barely ate all day."  
"I don't eat, when I'm working."  
"Nor sleep. It's not healthy." Sherlock looked at John carefully.   
"I know your instincts tells you, you should take care of me, but I'm not your alpha. I don't looking forward a relationship, I'm married to my work."   
"Whoa! I don't..." John touched the bridge of his nose. " It's not my instincts. Maybe I'm not functioning well as an omega, but I'm a doctor, and as a doctor, I tell you..."  
"Well, you're not my doctor."  
"You know what? I give up. Just don't want to pay the rent alone."  
A taxi arrived outside and it caught Sherlock's attention. Nobody getting in, and nobody getting out. Why a taxi? Oh, that's clever! Sherlock jumped up and ran out of the restaurant, John ran out after him.  
They chased the taxi through half of the city and when caught it, found out, they run after the wrong taxi all the time.  
"That was the most ridiculous thing, I've ever done" told John as they arrived home.  
"And you invaded Afghanistan." Both laughed at that.   
"Why aren't we back at the restaurant?"  
"They can keep an eye out. It was a long shot anyway." Sherlock waved.   
"So what we were doing there?"  
"Proving a point."  
"What point?"  
"You. You will take the room upstairs."  
"Says who?"  
"Your leg."  
John looked down at his leg confused, and realised, he forgot his cane at the restaurant. Sherlock only smiled, until Mrs Hudson wouldn't come to inform him, there's the police in upstairs.

"What are you doing here?"  
Lestrade sat on Sherlock's armchair.  
"Well, I knew you found the case, I'm not stupid."  
"You can't just break into my nest."  
"You can't withhold evidence" replied the inspector. "And I didn't break in."  
"Well, what do you call this then?"  
"It's a drug bust."  
"You could search this flat all day, you wouldn't find anything you could call recreational." Sherlock's heart warmed a bit at John's outburst, but he just silenced the doctor.   
"The guys will keep looking, or you could help us properly and I'll stand them down. Sherlock, this is our case. I'm letting you in, but you do not go off on your own" argued Lestrade.  
"So you set up a pretend drug bust to bully me?"  
"It stops being pretend if we find anything."  
"I am clean!"  
"Is your flat? All of it?"  
"Don't even smoke."  
"Let's work together. We know who Rachel is." Sherlock started to listening. " Rachel was Jennifer Wilson's stillborn daughter, 14 years ago."  
"Why would she scratched her name on the floor with her fingernails? She was dying, it took effort, it would have hurt."   
"You said that the victims all took the poison themselves, that he makes them take it. Maybe he talks to them. Maybe he used the death of her daughter somehow" guessed John.  
"Yeah, but that was ages ago. Why would she still be upset?" John gaped his mouth in outrage. "Not good?"  
"Bit not good, yeah."   
"If you were dying... If you'd been murdered, in your very last few seconds what would you say?"  
"Please God, let me live."  
"Use your imagination!"  
"I don't have to." Sherlock blinked embarrassed, but tried again. "Yeah, but if you were very clever, Jennifer Wilson running all those lovers, she was clever. She's trying to tell us something."  
"Isn't the doorbell working? Your taxi is here Sherlock." Mrs. Hudson came.  
"I didn't order a taxi. Go away."  
"Oh, dear. They are making such a mess" complained their landlady. "What are they looking for?"  
"It's a drug bust" John told her.  
"But they are just for my hip. They are herbal soothers."  
"Shup up everybody!" shouted Sherlock. "Don't speak, don't breath. I'm trying to think!  
"What about your taxi?  
"Mrs. Hudson!!!" Sherlock shouted again, and she ran.  
"Oh!" The detective got a brainwave. "She never lost her phone, she planted in on him. When she got out of the car, she know that she was going to her death. She left the phone in order to lead us to her killer."  
"But how?"  
"Rachel is not a name. On the luggage, there's a label. E-mail address." Sherlock sat in front of a laptop. "She didn't have a laptop, which means she did her business on her phone. A smartphone, it's e-mail enabled. So there was a website for her account. The username is her e-mail address and all together the password is... Rachel. She used smartphone, it has GPS. Which means, if you loose it, you can locate it online. She's leading us directly to the man who killed her."  
"Sherlock, dear! This taxi driver..."  
"Mrs. Hudson, isn't is time for your evening soother?"  
Sherlock tried to talk with Lestrade the next step, when John informed him, according to the GPS of the smartphone the phone itself located at 221B Baker Street.  
"How can it be here?" It wasn't in the case, he was sure. It wasn't fell out. Then how?   
Just then he realised... Who do we trust, even if we don't know them? Who passes unnoticed wherever they go? Who hunts in the middle of a crowd? The taxi driver came for him.


	7. Chapter 7

Sherlock stood face to face with the serial killer, an old man in poor clothes, and glasses. The devil has so many faces. The detective knew, if he call the coppers, the murderer would never tell him with what he persuaded the victims to commit suicide. And he wanted to know, he ached for the knowledge. He wanted to understand. So he got in the taxi.  
"How did you found me?" He asked the man.  
"I was warned about you. I've been on your website, too. Brilliant stuff, loved it!"  
"Who warned you about me?"  
"Just someone out there who's noticed."  
"Who would notice me?"  
"You're too modest, Mr. Holmes."  
"I'm really not."  
"Got yourself a fan." 

John saw Sherlock from the window. He called Jennifer Wilson's phone, but nobody picked up. He tried to search it it with the laptop. Lestrade didn't understood why the detective leaved, he felt Sherlock let him down, so he left the flat with his people.  
"It's time to take things in my own hand." John put his gun into his jacket.

The taxi stopped at Roland-Kerr Further Education College.  
"It's a nice quite spot for a murder." Explained the cabbie. They went in. "Shall we talk?" He take a seat, and Sherlock sat down in front of him.  
"Bit risky, wasn't it? Took me away under the eye of policemen. And Mrs. Hudson will remember you."  
"You call that a risk? This is a risk." He pulled out two little bottles, each containing a pill. "There's a good bottle and a bad bottle. You take the good bottle, you live. You take the pill from the bad bottle, you die."  
"And you know which is which."  
"Of course I know. You're the one who chooses. Whatever bottle you choose, I take the pill from the other one. I wont cheat, it's your choice. I'll take whatever pill you don't."  
"This is what you did to the rest of them, you gave them a choice?"  
"And now I'm giving you one. Take your time. I want your best game."  
"It's not a game, it's chance."  
"I've played four times. I'm alive. It's not chance Mr. Homes, it's chess. With one move, one survivor."  
"You risked your life four times just to kill strangers. Why?"  
"Time to play."  
"Oh, I'm playing. This is my turn." John would enjoyed this, seeing him brilliant. " There's a photograph of children in your cab. Their mother's been cut out. If she'd died, she'd still be there. The photograph is old, but the frame is new. You think of your children, but you don't get to see them. Estranged father. She took the kids, but you still love them, it still hurts. Your clothes recently laundered, but everything you're wearing is at least three years old. And you are on a kamikaze murder spree. What's that about? Three years ago. Is that when they told you?"  
"Told me what?"  
"That you're a dead man walking. Am I right?"  
"Aneurism. Right in here." He pointed to his head. " Any breath could be my last."  
"And because you're dying, you've just murdered four people."  
"I've outlived four people. That's the most fun you can have with an aneurism."  
"No, there's something else. You didn't just kill four people because you're bitter. Bitterness is a paralytic. Love is a much more vicious motivator. Somehow this is about your children."  
"Oh... you're good. When I die they won't get much, my kids" he explained. " Not a lot of money in driving cabs."  
"Or serial killing."  
"You'd be surprised."  
"Surprise me."  
"I have a sponsor. For every life I take, money goes to my kids. The more I kill the better off they'll be. You see? It's nicer than you think."  
Sherlock frowned.  
"Who'd sponsor a serial killer?"  
"Who'd be a fan of Sherlock Holmes?" Well, that's get better and better. "You're not the only one to enjoy a good murder. There's others out there just like you, except you're just a man. And they're so much more than that."  
"What do you mean? An organisation? What?"  
"There's a name, that no one says. And I'm not going to say you it either. Now, enough chatter. Time to choose."  
"What if I don't choose either? I could just walk out of here." The cabbie pulled out a gun under the table.  
"I can shoot you in the head. No one's ever gone for that option."  
"I'll have the gun, please." The old man raised an eyebrow.  
"Are you sure?"  
"Definitely. I know a real gun when I see one."  
"Non of the others did."  
"Clearly. Well, this has been very interesting. I look forward to the court case." Sherlock got up, ready to go.  
"Did you figure it out? Which one's the good bottle?"  
"Course."  
"Well, which one then? Just so I know whether I could have beaten you. Come on! Play the game." Oh, he knows Sherlock's weakness. The detective picked one of the bottles. "So what do you think? Can you beat me? Are you clever enough to bet your life? I bet you get bored. I know you do. A man like you. So clever. Bot what's the point of being clever if you can't prove it?"  
Suddenly from the nothing a gunshot roared. Sherlock dropped the pill, and the cabbie fell to the ground. The detective looked out from the window, where from the shot came, but saw nothing. He went for the murderer.  
"Your sponsor. Who was it? The one, who told you about me, my fan. I want a name."  
"No." He exhaled.  
"You're dying, but there's still time to hurt you." Sherlock stepped on his gunshot wound. " The name" Now!" He roared.  
"Moriarty!" Gasped the man.

Soon sirens wailed, and Sherlock got a blanket. Lestrade showed up next to him.  
"So, the shooter. No sign?"  
"Cleared off before we got here. We've got nothing to go on."  
"Oh, I wouldn't say that. The bullet they just dug out of the wall's from a handgun. A kill shot over that distance, that's a crack shot. But not just a marksman, a fighter. His hands couldn't have shaken at all so clearly he's acclimatised to violence. He didn't fire until I was in immediate danger though, so strong moral principle. You're looking for a man with a history of military service, and nerves of steel..." Than he just saw John next to the police cars. His heart beaten faster. Oh, yes! He has to be the one who saved him. "Actually, you know what? Ignore me. Ignore all of that. Just the shock talking."  
"Where are you going?" Puzzled Lestrade.  
"I just need to talk about the rent."  
"I've still got questions."  
"I'm in shock, look I've got a blanket!" Sherlock resisted. "And I just caught you a serial killer. More or less."  
"Okay. We'll pull you in tomorrow, off you go."  
Sherlock excitedly approached John.  
"The sergeant has just been explaining everything. The two pills. Dreadful business, isn't it?"  
"Good shot." Sherlock told him with his "I knows everything" look. "Need to get the powder burns out of your fingers... Are you all right?"  
"Of course, I'm all right."  
"You have just killed a man."  
"I saw men die before, good men, friends of mine. Thought I would never sleep again. I would sleep fine tonight." Sherlock watched John intense. "You were going to take the damn pill, weren't you?"  
"Course I wasn't. Biding my time. Knew you'd turn up."  
"No you didn't. That's how you get you kicks, isn't it? You risk your life to prove you're clever."  
"Why would I do that?"  
"Because you're an idiot."  
Sherlock smiled, he has to coz his alpha smiled too.  
"Dinner?"  
"Starving."  
They started on their way, when a black car stopped them. An elegantly dressed man with umbrella got out from the car.  
" So another case cracked. How very public spirited. Though that's never really your motivation, is it?" He talked to Sherlock, they clearly knew each other.  
"What are you doing here?" Sherlock annoyed.  
"As ever, I'm concerned about you. We have more in common that you'd like to believe. This petty feud between us is simply childish. People will suffer. And you know how it always upset Mummy."  
"I upset her? Me? It wasn't me that upset her, Mycroft."  
"Wait, who's Mummy?" John was curios.  
"Mother. Our mother. This is my brother, Mycroft." John was speechless. There are two of them. It's tragic. "Putting of weight again?"  
"Losing it, in fact." They argued. It turned out, Mycroft Holmes occupied a minor position in the British Government.  
"Good evening, Mycroft. Try not to start a war before a get home, you know what is does with the traffic." Sherlock said goodbye to his brother and leaved with John by his side.  
Mycroft looked after them for a long time. Yes, he made a great choice, when he picked John Watson from the many omegas for his brother. He hoped it wasn't too late.


	8. Chapter 8

Life with Sherlock wasn't easy. It's not enough he was messy, he kept a jar of eyeballs in the microwave and a head in the fridge. He manipulated Molly to get body parts from St. Bart's. John also arranged the shopping, he felt himself a housewife. John sometimes fall asleep at work, because Sherlock sent him different places getting information at night to his cases. Sherlock was unbearable, when he got bored, shot into the wall, terrorized Mrs. Hudson, and insulted John. He usually sabotaged the doctor on a date. Watson was even kidnapped by Black Lotus when they confused him with Sherlock Holmes. Despite all this, John stayed. He felt himself important, his life was interesting. He started writing a blog about their cases, however Sherlock offended, when John mentioned, the detective against his brilliant intelligence, he is ignorant in a few things. During their fights, John left to Sarah Sawyer, his so called girlfriend. Sarah was a beta, also a doctor. How dull. John must felt safe with her because of her gender, it wasn't a good excuse he went to dinner with Sarah instead of him.  
"Are you listening, Sherlock? I have just drawn your attention to an important issue." Mycroft tried to persuade his brother to a case.  
"Not interested."  
"Sherlock!" John ran up on the stairs. "Are you okay? I heard what happened in the news."  
"Gas leak." The room was ruined a bit, and ventilated better as before but Sherlock was fine, only that mattered for John. "How is Sarah? Is her mattress comfy enough?"  
"It was the couch, Sherlock." Maybe Mycroft was really better in observing.  
"The couch, indeed." Even better.  
"Sherlock's business bloomed since you two works together." Mycroft told John. "I just recommended him a case." He got up from John's armchair an gave him a file. "Andrew West, a civil servant was found dead at the station this morning, he was worked on a missile defense system for the Ministry. Bruce-Partington project. The project was on a pen drive, it's missing. West could take it with him. It must be found, before it falls into wrong hands."  
Sherlock was ignorant. Mycroft left, he hoped John would persuade him to work it.  
"Why did you refused it? Aren't you bored?" Sherlock just shrugged. "Oh! Sibling rivalry. Great."  
The detective's phone rang. It was Lestrade. Sherlock finally seemed exhilarated.  
"We going to the Yard!"  
"You want me to going with you?"  
"Always. What would I do without my blogger?"

"You like weird cases. The explosion..." started Lestrade.  
"Gas leak."  
"No. Just looked like one. Everything destroyed in the place except a strong box, a very strong box, inside with this. It's not a leaf bomb."  
Sherlock examined the envelope.  
"Nice letter paper. Czech made. No fingerprints?"  
"No."  
On the paper Sherlock's name was written with beautiful letters. Female writing, obvious. And what is inside?  
"A pink phone."  
"From the Study in Pink" amazed the ID.  
"Of course it's not the same phone, just looks like... Study in Pink? You read his blog!"  
"Yes, like everyone. Do you really not know that the Earth goes round the Sun?" Damn it John!  
"It isn't the same phone. It's new. Someone tired a lot to got one looks like the same. Your blog has a wide community."  
"You have one new message" chirped the phone. It sent a picture.  
"What to do with this? Whistle and a picture?" asked Lestrade.  
"It's a threat. They warning us it will happen again."

The picture was made at 221B Baker Street's basement. They found a pair of shoes there, when the phone ringed again.  
"Hello?"  
"Sexy." A female voice.  
"Who is this?"  
"I've sent you a little puzzle just to say hi." Her voice hiccupped.  
"Who's talking? Why are you crying?"  
"I'm not crying, I'm typing and this stupid bitch is reading it out. You have 12 hours to solve the puzzle Sherlock or I will be naughty."

Sherlock examined the shoes.  
"What do you think, who is the woman in the phone?" Asked John.  
"That doesn't matter, just a hostage. It's not a trace, useless."  
"Are the police try to trace the phone?" John paced nervously.  
"The demolition too smart. Give me my phone."  
"Where is it?"  
"In my jacket."  
"For God's sake!" John started to pull his jacket while Sherlock's alpha enjoyed the doctor closeness.  
"Careful!" John checked the phone.  
"A text from your brother."  
"Delete it. The project long gone, doesn't matter."  
"Mycroft think otherwise. Might be important."  
"Look, Andrew West stole the project, tried to sell it, he get killed. That's it. The only mystery is why my brother annoying me, when someone else is so much interesting."  
"You know that woman could be die?"  
"So? There's hospitals full of people dying, doctor. Why don't you go crying their bedside and see what good it does them?"  
John face was red with rage like a turkey.  
"You are a fucking machine! I don't wonder why nobody can tolerate you for long time."  
"You are still here." So John storms away angrily shut the door behind him.  
Sherlock could concentrate on his job again. The doctor closeness and touches totally diverted his instincts to another way which he didn't want to deal with. But now his brain wheels moved in motion. The owner liked his shoes so much, he kept them clean. He suffered from eczema. There are mud on the sole from Sussex, on it sole from London, he knew this from the pollen analyses. So the owner came from Sussex to London, and left them here, but why? What happened with him? Oh... Oh!!! Carl Powers. His first case! A kid came for a swimming competition, he got some attack and drowned. His shoes were missing. These are his shoes! He analysed the shoes further and found clostridium botulinum on the shoelace. It could be in Carl Power's eczema ointment, caused muscle paralysis while he was in the pool. He solved it! John will be satisfied. 

The game continued with a new puzzle and a with a new hostage. Sherlock was on the case in his every minute, while secretly he also got close to Bruce-Partington project. John's gonna like this.  
"He want's to have fun. It looks like I'm not the only one who gets bored."  
"Get happy with together." John was upset again.  
"What did you say?"  
"People dying, Sherlock! Do you care at all?"  
"If I care it helps them?"  
"No."  
"Then I don't bother."  
"Because it's easy, right?"  
"Very easy. Is it new for you?" John shook his head again. "Oh! You are disappointed in me."  
"Yes, great conclusion."  
"Don't make heroes from people. There are no heroes, in spite of that I'm not one of them."  
"I will remember this." John turned his back at Sherlock and left.  
The detective had no time for John's temper tantrum. He had a meeting.

He went to the swimming pool where Carl Power died. He understood all of the puzzles were a diversion to the Bruce-Partington project, but he got it.  
"I got you a present! It was al because of this." A door opened and Sherlock's greatest shock, John walked in.  
"Evening! What a surprise, isn't is Sherlock?"  
"John" Sherlock breathed rapidly. His stomach narrowed.  
"What would you like me to make him say next?" He opened the parka he worn to show the detective the bombs under it.  
"Who are you?"  
"Is that a British Army Browning L9A1in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?" A thin man in Westwood suit appeared. His fan, his enemy. "Jim Moriarty. Hi!" Sherlock pointed the gun at him. "I have a snipper to dirtying hands instead of mine." Little red point danced around John's head. "I gave you a tiny glimpse to my world. I'm a specialists, like you."  
"Consulting criminal. Brilliant."  
"Isn't is? No one ever gets to me, and no one ever will."  
"I did."  
"You came to the closest, now you are in my way."  
"Thank you."  
"I didn't compliment."  
"Yes, you did."  
"Yeah, okay, I did. But the flirting is over Sherlock. Daddy's had enough now! Show you what I can do. It's just a friendly warning. Back off! Well, I have loved this, playing our little game."  
"People have died."  
"That's what people do!!!"  
"I will stop you."  
"No you won't."  
"Are you all right?" Sherlock looked at John.  
"You can talk, Johnny boy. Go ahead." Sherlock's alpha growled warningly. The doctor only nodded.  
"Take it! The detective handed the pen drive Moriarty.  
"Oh, that! The missile plan!" He kissed it and with one move, he tossed it to the pool. "Boring! If I want it, I will have it." John took the opportunity and jumped on the criminal.  
"Sherlock run!"  
"O-ho!" Moriarty laughed. "Good! Very good."  
"If your snipper pull the trigger we both gonna fly."  
"How sweet! I can see why you like having them around, people do get so sentimental about their pets. So touchingly loyal, but oops... Rather shown your hand there Dr Watson." A red dot shown on Sherlock's head. "Got ya! Do you know what happens if you don't leave me alone? "  
"Oh, let me guess. I get killed."  
"Don't be obvious. I will kill you someday. I don't go rush it though, I'm saving it up for something special. If you don't stop prying, I'll burn you. I'll burn your heart out of you."  
"I have been reliably informed that I don't have one."  
"But we both know it's not quite true." Sherlock blinked. He started to sweating his shirt over. "Well, I'd be better be off. So nice to had a proper chat."  
"What if a just shot you now? Right now?"  
"Then you could cherish the look of surprise on my face. Because I'd surprised and a little disappointed. Of course you wouldn't be able to cherish it for very long. Ciao, Sherlock Holmes!"  
"Catch you later!"  
"No you won't!"  
As Moriarty gone, Sherlock jumped to John.  
"You all right?" He took the parka off from John with rapid movements and tossed it far away from them. "Are you all right?" He desperately asked him again. It costed all of his self control to not scenting or petting John right there.  
"Yeah, I'm fine. Calm down, Sherlock!" But he just pacing furiously near the pool.  
"That thing that you offered to do... that was good." He tried to save us again. How brave, so precious... "Oh, shut up! I try to concentrate!"  
"What?"  
"I talking to myself John."  
"I'm glad no one saw that. You ripping my clothes off in a darkened swimming pool. People might talk."  
"People do little else." They smiled at each other when a disturbing voice interjected.  
"Sorry boys! I am so changeable. It's my only weakness. You can't be allowed to continue. You just can't. I would try to convince you, but everything I have to say has already crossed your mind."  
Sherlock looked at John. He pondered on their chances.  
"Probably my answers crossed yours." Sherlock pointed the bomb with the gun. He didn't know what will happen, he was sure in one thing: his alpha would do whatever it takes to keep John safe.


	9. Chapter 9

Sherlock yanked John with him into the pool. The fire heated up the air. Debris and ashes felled from it.  
The detective tried reach the water surface with his blogger after the explosion. He dragged John out. The doctor coughed water up. His head hurt. Someone leaned above him.  
"Shhh!" A cold nose touched his face, it smelled his hairline. A tongue licked blood from his temple. A cheek rubbed to his.  
"That's enough, Sherlock!" John tried to push the detective's head away, but he didn't moved a bit.  
"You are safe. I keep you safe." He rubbed his face into John's neck.  
Something was definitely strange with Sherlock. It's his alpha!  
"You are a good alpha, Sherlock. Could you please get off me?"  
"No. I keep you safe, warm."  
"That's ridiculous. Let me up!" John protested.  
Sherlock gently lifted John's head to his chest.  
"Ow!" He felt dizzy. The alpha moved him in sitting position while hugged him close.  
Soon sound of sirens was heard.  
"You all right guys?" Lestrade approached to them. Sherlock growled. John seemed wounded and the genius held him as some kind of treasure. "Oh!" The inspector held up his hands. "It's okay Sherlock, It's just me. I'm bonded remember? Have a wife who cheating on me in your opinion. John needs help. Let the paramedics check on him."  
"John would be fine. My own doctors gonna take care of him." A tall man with umbrella shown up. He smelled familiar to Sherlock's nose. His own blood, his brother. He can trust him. "But now it's important to take them to their nest. John to recover and Sherlock to calm down. If you'll excuse us..."  
Sherlock lifted John up and went to Mycroft's car.

"You can't be that ignorant, Sherlock! You stayed in alpha mode not just a few hours. It's dangerous! That's what I told you for a long time. You can't deny your alpha's want."  
"My alpha is an idiot!" You are an idiot!  
God, his head hurts. His alpha wanted took control again to go back to John. John is safe, he reminds himself. John is safe and fine, sleeping in his bed.  
"If you go this way, your alpha once might never let you back to the wheel."  
"I know my own mind!"  
"You are much more than just your brain. You groomed John like a good mate. You took him to your own bed, take his clothes off, take your clothes off, and warmed him with your own naked body all night." Sherlock was poppy red. It wasn't enough he didn't remembered any of this, his brother witnessed his actions. "I know you don't want my advice, but you should let your alpha to do few things it wants, in return, it won't take the lead. It's compromise."  
"And if it want's so much more..."  
"Than I will tell you a story about the bees and flowers."  
"Sherlock..." John wear nothing expect his underwear.  
"I gladly see, you are well, Dr Watson. I have a new case for you."  
"Isn't it too soon? Just survived an explosion yesterday."  
"John, there's mine robe on the sofa." John went there to take a seat, but didn't touched the offered cloth.  
"What about Moriarty?"  
"Your inspector friend and his company found nothing. He escaped." Mycroft gave Sherlock a picture. "Do you heard about her?"  
"Should I?" From picture a very pretty woman smiled at him.  
"Irene Adler, better known as The Woman or Dominatrix. What she provides could be called pleasure author torture. She has a website."  
"I suppose this Adler has compromising pictures. From who?"  
"Someone who is young and important to the royal family."  
"And where is the case? They should pay for her as much as she ask."  
"She don't want money or anything."  
"Oh, power game. This is entertaining. I'm in."  
"Where is she now?" asked John. Sherlock, who avoided his blogger naked chest's sight, now looked at him.  
"Seriously, could you just put on something?"  
"Says Mr I slept on you naked all night. And you didn't even bothering with underwear." Even Sherlock's neck and ears were crimson colour.  
"It wasn't me. It was my alpha. And sorry if I do not find pleasure in a sight of an aging man bare, wounded body."  
Mycroft intently watched his shoes for a while, but raised his head when John punched his little brother on the face.  
"Excellent! You have your disguise." 

Disguised as an attacked priest, Sherlock walked in Mrs Adler's sitting room, to find her naked as a fresh born lamb. In a minute, he dropped out of his role.  
"I'm..."  
"Oh, it's always hard to remember an alias when you've had a fright, isn't it, Mr. Holmes?"  
"Mrs. Adler." There was something very strange in this woman. He can't read hear. Even her smell was confusing. Is she an alpha or an omega?  
"Do you know the big problem with disguise Mr. Holmes? However hard to try it's always a self-portrait."  
"You think I'm a vicar with a bleeding face?"  
"I think you're damaged, delusional and believe in higher power. In your case it's yourself." Brilliant, John would say. This woman is stunning. "Somebody loves you. If I had to punch that face I'd avoid your nose and teeth too." Oh, John.  
"That's not why I'm here."  
"No, you came for the photographs, but that's never gonna happen."  
"I know I'm close. The photographs are in this room."  
"You think?"  
Someone turned on the fire alarm. Mrs. Adler looked at the big framed mirror above the mantel.  
"Now I'm sure." There was a safe behind the mirror. Sherlock started to thinking about the code.  
"I'd told you, but you know what? I already did. Think!" In that moment few armed man pushed John through the door.  
"Hands on the nape of your neck! Kneel on the ground and don't move!" The man has an American accent. There should be more on that phone as a few picture. "Open the safe now!" He told to Sherlock.  
"I don't know the code."  
"We heard when she told you she did."  
"It's not true."  
"Well, from your reputation, I conclude, you can solve it."  
"For God's sake!" told John. "The woman knows the code. Ask her!"  
"I know I can't trust her. So, Mr. Holmes, will you just do me a favour? Or I count three, and Mr. Archer would shoot Dr Watson."  
No, no, no!!! It was only yesterday when he put John in danger. His alpha was still in alarm. He felt his vision turns red, and the fangs in his mouth ready to kill.  
John only perceived the screams and howls, the death rattles. He saw The Woman ran to the safe, punched the code and take out her phone, then run away through the window. When the doctor dared to look up, the room looked like a battle field in Afghanistan. Blood and dead bodies everywhere.  
"Sherlock! What have you done?"  
"Saved you. I'm a good mate." His face was bloodied. His claws too.  
"Come here Sherlock!" John breathed heavily. Sherlock knelt down to him, nuzzled into his neck immediately.  
John ran his fingers into his black curls, while with his other hand sent a text to Mycroft.

Christmas time came, and a little party was arranged at 221B Baker Street. John wanted it, of course. They invited Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade and Molly. John broke up with Sarah, so no girlfriend. Sherlock was satisfied, he even played Marry Christmas at his violin, but he just couldn't stopped himself to offending Lestrade with his analyse about the inspector's cheating wife, and Molly about her love interest, until he found out it's him. Then-John biggest wonder-he apologized. His phone gave an obscene voice. It was The Women set up. She sent a text.  
"Mantelpiece"  
There was a little present box. Sherlock retreated to his room. The box contained her mobile. Sherlock called his brother immediately.  
"She is dead." She sent her phone to him, this was the only explanation.  
"Are you okay?" John stood at his room's entrance.  
"Yes." Sherlock closed the door in front of the doctor nose.  
He was definitely not okay. He even smoked a cigarette. Didn't talked. Composed lethargic sonatas. He's grieved. It was unusual. John was helpless. Mycroft told him, he has to stay with him. John doubted it helps. He also saw that photos. Irene Adler was breath taking. Also very smart. A true match for Sherlock, John thought sadly. Yes, Sherlock liked her. Maybe it was more. He felt jealousy. He broke up with Sarah with reason. Of course he didn't dared to hope, despite of Sherlock's alpha showed courting behaviour towards him. Sherlock clearly told John, he separates himself from his alpha's want. He avoided him for a while after the incident. John was old, average, boring. He sighed.  
"Sherlock. I've got you something." The detective played on his violin, looked out the window. John put his Christmas present to the table. "I know you use mine, but that's old, and I think you can make good use of this one." Sherlock still showed his back at him, so John went to the kitchen to put the kettle on. Soon the violin play fell silent. John wondered Sherlock want to see his present at all. It was ordinary, just like him. Irene would gave him something special... His flatmate walked in and stopped next to him.  
"Would you like a cup of tea?" Sherlock looked at him with an odd expression. "It's Grey's Anatomy, I thought... Doesn't matter. It's only a book." The doctor stared at the floor until Sherlock reached under his chin.  
"My alpha wants to thank you." Course, his alpha... John cut a sour face.  
"You are welcome."  
The detective forced him to look into his eyes. It was unpleasant. Even without it the genius could read him well.  
"John..." He said his name softly. His own eyes fixed on John's lips. He leaned closer. First his nose touched the doctor's, his warmed breath danced on his cheek while his hand wandered from his blogger's chin to his nape and the other to his hip. John breath was cut off. Sherlock's lips found his. It was tentative and gentle, not tongue or teeth involved. He stroked his face with his long fingers, while also kissed the good doctor's eyebrows and temple. His doctor... Sherlock propped his forehead to John's. They stayed that way for a while.  
"Merry Christmas, John."


	10. Chapter 10

One rainy day Irene Adler returned back. A black car stopped next to doctor Watson at the street.  
"Bloody Mycroft" grumbled John.  
He only wished it would've been Mycroft who he met. Irene Adler even in her restrained clothing were beautiful with her long eyelashes and blood red lips. John felt the ground run out under his feet.  
"Hello Dr. Watson."  
"Tell him you're alive" John replied immediately.  
"He would come after me."  
Yes, he would. John's heart clenched. Sherlock was sad because he toughed Irene is dead. John wandered if he knew she is alive, that kiss would have happened between them at all. They didn't talked about it. It never happened again. John tried to approached, but Sherlock drawled back. He must thought it was a mistake.  
"I needed to disappear."  
"How come I can see you, I don't even want to."  
"I made a mistake. I sent something to Sherlock for safekeeping and now I need it back, so I need your help."  
"No."  
"It's free zone safety."  
"Tell him you're alive." He hated this, but if Sherlock would feel better, that's the way.  
"I can't."  
"Fine, I'll tell him and I still won't help you" he said vehemently, ready to leave.  
"What do I say?"  
"What do you normally say? You've texted him a lot." He knew this, as well as that he sounds jealous, but he can't control himself. Irene only smiled, she was satisfied with herself.  
"The usual stuff."  
"There is no usual in this case."  
The Woman started to read aloud her texts she wrote to Sherlock, while John tried to cover his hurt feelings.  
"You flirted with Sherlock Holmes."  
"He never replies."  
"Sherlock always replies to everything, he's Mr. Punchline."  
"Does that make me special?" She knows, she was special for him some way, it was written to her face, it was in her cheeky smile. "Are you jealous?" Another question to which she knew the answer.  
"We are not a couple." Well, this was the truth, doesn't matter how much it bothered John.  
"Yes, you are" She was typing on her phone. "There. I'm not dead. Let's have dinner." She sent it to Sherlock.

As it turned out, Sherlock followed John to the meeting, but didn't showed himself before The Woman.  
John wanted to know how Sherlock feels about her returning, or is he planning to see her again, but the detective doesn't answered. He determinedly tried to crack her phone's code.  
Sherlock didn't gave her phone back, so one average day, when they arrived home, they found a sleeping Irene Adler in the genius's bed. John sucked a harsh breath but didn't said anything.  
Irene felt herself in danger without her phone, it was her life. The datas in the phone should be very important. Sherlock can't solve the phone's code, he had to gave it to Ms. Adler to enter in. Irene had a costumer worked for the Military who got an e-mail once, an important one, and she took a picture from it, but she can't found out what is it about. She toughed it was some kind of code. Sherlock took a look for it.  
"It's not a code. It's a scheduled plane's passenger list." And of course he knew and tell which airline and which plane is it.  
Ms. Adler was impressed. She made her admire obvious. John felt himself the third wheel, so he left. If Irene Adler was who Sherlock want's, he won't stand in their way.  
"Where's John?" Sherlock asked suddenly.  
"He left."  
"But I just talked to him."  
Irene knelt front of the detective and take his hand.  
"We should have dinner."  
"Why?"  
"Maybe you're hungry" she didn't meant for food.  
"I'm not." Meanwhile Sherlock touched her wrist. "Why would I had dinner with you, when I'm not hungry?"  
"Mr. Holmes, if it would be the end of the world, and it was the last night..."  
If it was the last night, I would tell John... but I can't, and maybe I never will, because it's complicated and terrifying, and this... this is more simple. He couldn't answer, because a tall and muscular man came for him to take him to his brother.

They met on a plane.  
"You know, I had a plan, a brilliant a plan... " Mycroft walked out from the shadow. "...about a terror attack without victims. But one lonely, naive man, desperately to show of and a woman clever enough to make him feel special were enough to destroy this plan."  
"You can choose your men better."  
"I don't talking about the man from the Military, I talking about you" Shouted Mycroft. " She is a criminal. She spied for Moriarty, and stabbed you on your back at the first opportunity what given. Why is she so special? Because she is smart? Smart enough to trick you? This is what excites you up? I choose John for you..."  
"Leave John out of this!" Sherlock barked.  
"...to be your partner, your friend, your mate even, if you wouldn't be an absolute idiot! He is a great man, a good man. Faithfull with a strong moral compass. He saved your life, never let you down, and you... How can you be so blind?"  
"Stop it Mycroft!"  
"You are so ordinary, really. She gave you a puzzle and watched you spinning. How quick you figured the e-mail out for her?"  
"It took him five seconds" told Ms. Adler from behind. "We should talk."  
"Indeed. I have questions" said Sherlock.  
"No. I'm done with you" answered Irene as stopped in front of the older Holmes. "You know I have so much more on my phone outside of compromise pictures, so much more. I have few demands, to not use them against your superiors."  
"I have men for brake your phone's code."  
"I already tested it. I let Sherlock try to solve it for months and he can't."  
Mycroft threatened, bargained, but didn't went anywhere with her.  
"Congratulations, Ms. Adler. I wish have men half as good as you."  
"I can't take all the credit. Jim Moriarty says hi! He helped me a lot... to deal with the Holmes brothers. He calls you the Iceman, and your little brother the Virgin."  
"The Dominatrix forced a whole country on it's knees. Well played. "  
"No!" Sherlock spoke again.  
"Excuse me?"  
"I said, no. You were close, but you enjoyed the game too much. It would be fine, only sentiment you didn't count with. Sentiment is a chemical defect found on the loosing side. "  
"What are you talking about?"  
"You."  
"Oh, my God! Look at the poor man! You didn't think I was interested in you? Why? Because you are the great Sherlock Holmes, the clever detective?"  
"No." Sherlock get closer to her and touched her wrist again. "Because I took your pulse, elevated" whispered to her ear. "Your pupils dilated." He took her phone. "I imagine John Watson thinks love is a mystery to me but chemistry is incredibly simple and very distractive. When we first met, you said disguise is always a self-portrait. How to review the combination to your safe your measurements, yes, I knew. But this is far more intimate. This is your heart and you should never let it rule your head." As I would never let John rule my heart, I just can't. "You could have chosen any random number and walked out of here with everything you've worked for. You just couldn't resist it, could you? I've always assumed that love is a dangerous disadvantage. Thank you for the final proof."  
"Everything a said it's not real. I just played the game." Her eyes were wet with tears.  
"I know. And this is just loosing." He showed her what he typed into the phone, what was the code. I am Sherlocked. He gave the phone to his brother. "Kept the contents make up for any inconvenience I may occurred you tonight."

Sherlock went home. His thoughts swirled. Sentiment. A simple thing can destroy big minds. Maybe one day he would loose a game, because of someone. That certain someone waited him in the sitting room with a luggage at his feet. Sherlock frowned.  
"Are you planning to travel somewhere John?"  
"I'm moving out Sherlock."  
"I don't understand." He felt like scalded.  
"I'm thinking on it for a while. I have feelings for you, you know. Of course you know, and I know it's one-sided. I understand. As you told me once I'm old, broken... Why would you wanted me? But I won't stay pine for you. I will respect myself. I move on."  
Sherlock can't breath. He stood in the middle of the room numb and frozen while John left. His chest started to hurt. It hurts so much, like he was shoot in the heart. He collapsed.


	11. Chapter 11

John was sitting in a cab. He blindly stared out from the window. His eyes watered.  
"Deep breaths. It was the right choice." He tried to believe in it while he felt awful. John knew it will be hard to be far from Sherlock for a while, but for long term it would be easier. His mobile chirped. He wondered it would be Sherlock.  
"Get over to the car next to the cab."-MH  
John didn't had time to reply, when Mycroft sent him another message.  
"It's dead or alive, Dr. Watson."-MH  
John wondered it's just some kind of manipulation from Mycroft, to keep him with his brother, but what if it's really important? What if Sherlock is in danger or took drugs again? He got in the black car. 

"I hope you had the right reason to drag me back here Mycroft, or I swear..." his voice faded, when he saw the older Holmes's worried expression. "Where is Sherlock?"  
"We took him in his bedroom."  
John immediately marched into the room. Sherlock lay on the bed paler like ever. His eyes were shut. Watson climbed on the bed next to him in doctor mode. He examined his pupils, checked his slow, weak pulse. His skin was cold.  
"What the hell did he took? Why didn't you called an ambulance?" John cried.  
"He didn't took anything. Your rejection did that."  
"My what?"  
"I have cameras in the flat, you know. I see everything, I have take an eye of my brother. You left, he collapsed."  
"I didn't rejected him. We are not a couple, he don't wants me. Call an ambulance. Now!" John was desperate.  
"It would be useless, John. I consulted with a gender specialist. His opinion is only the chosen omega can move out from this state."  
"Than call Irene. She owns you, I'm sure..."  
"No."  
"I know you don't trust her, but it's an emergency."  
"Irene Adler is not my brother's omega."  
"Neither am I, Mycroft."  
Mycroft sighed.  
"I have this theory: all hearts are broken. My brother only interested in omegas once. It wasn't serious, however my brother deeply disappointed in relationships. He didn't thought feelings are right or necessary, cause he was broken. He didn't listened to his wolf anymore, he said it gives him false impressions. But when he met you..."  
"You were the little bird, weren't you?" John realised suddenly. " You told Mike Stamford to introduce me to Sherlock."  
"I was sure, you'll be good for my brother."  
"Well, you were wrong."  
"I am never wrong."  
"I can't help him. I don't have smell what the alpha could react."  
"I know what you think. But Irene Adler is only a shiny little thing, what get Sherlock's interest for few moments. It was frivolous, trust me. Flirting with The Women was easier, because it wasn't real emotions behind it. Sherlock Holmes was nothing, only a big intellect without a heart. And you are that heart, Dr Watson, what he's missing. He can't live without you."  
"What do you expect from me?" Sniffed John.  
"Prove me, I am right. Because if not, my brother will be dead at the morning."

John was left alone with Sherlock. He was clueless, but he tried his best. He have to keep Sherlock warm, and hydrated. He prepared extra blankets, and massaged the detective's muscled to helps the blood circulation. He fed Sherlock from his own mouth, he swallowed it uneasily. Nothing seemed help. What would an omega do? A real omega. In normal circumstance, the alpha react sensitive the omega's smell, the hormones. The other important thing is the bite, during the mating process. The bite on its own meaningless, the blood and the saliva what is important. John bitten his own lips and took Sherlock's head close to his.  
"Come on, Sherlock!" John kissed him slowly, he opened the alpha's plump lisp with his tongue.  
Sherlock's state was unchanged. John got several text messages from Mycroft, but instead of reading them, he throw the phone to the wall.  
"You said, you have cameras! You see, he is not okay!" Shouted John. He started to undressing. He has to warming up Sherlock with his body heat, it would be more helpful, than blankets. In the end, both of them was naked. John lay on Sherlock, stroking his hair while covered his face with soft kisses.  
"Come back, Sherlock! Come back to me." He sobbed. His tears run down his cheeks to fall Sherlock's face.

John's head was on Sherlock's chest. He wanted to hear his heartbeat, to know he is still alive. His skin seemed warmer, but he was still motionless. John thoughts whirled around his gun. It was in his suitcase. He didn't thought about it since he met with Sherlock. But if Sherlock die...  
"You should drink again." John got of from the bed, he reached out for the water bottle. When he turned back, Sherlock eyes were open. John choked the water he sucked out from the bottle. "Thank God!" He reached out for touch his face, but Sherlock started to growl and grabbed his wrist. He yanked John on the bed and lay on him.  
"You left! You can't leave me!" he grunted.  
"Sherlock?" John checked Sherlock's fangs, dried blood was still on his lips. The detective was in his alpha state, but he spoke more clearly and John didn't take it as a good sign, still he was relieved. Sherlock is alive. "You have to drink and eat." He tried to sit up, but Sherlock held him down. "Sherlock, I wont leave." He caressed Sherlock's dark hair. " I thought you wanted to be with Irene..."  
"Irene?" The alpha blinked. Seemed he don't remember The Woman at all. "Are you jealous, my John?" He cocked his head. "You are my omega." He licked the tears from John's eyes.  
"Why?"  
"You keep me safe. You are brave, honest, loyal. I'm not alone with you. You are my home. My only friend, my everything. My chest feels warm, when you are around." Sherlock slid his finger down on John's shoulder to his old bullet wound.  
"But you liked Irene. You liked her more than anyone else. You grieved..."  
"Forget that bad woman, John!" He snarled showing his fangs. "She means nothing to me! But you... you will never leave me again!"  
He wanted to bite his neck, John felt in his core, so he quickly grabbed Sherlock's chin. He didn't intent to provoke a fight. However he was a soldier, alphas was stronger in its state. He simply cupped his alpha's face and kissed him.  
"We will eat first. I'm gonna feed you."  
Sherlock seemed pleased. Feeding each other meant courting behaviour.  
John went out to the kitchen, Sherlock followed close behind him, like he was afraid John will be disappear again.  
"You will need red meat, maybe with some fibrous, and lots of fluid of course."  
While he selected the food, out of the tail of his eye he could see someone slipped a letter under the sitting room's door.  
"Congratulations, Dr Watson!" He read the letter. "Or may I call you brother-in-law? Unfortunately Sherlock's sex education is very incomplete, but don't worry. His alpha knows exactly what to do. ;)"  
"Bloody Mycroft!"


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning! Sexual content.

John was sitting naked on the toilet. Sherlock didn't tolerated clothes. They were unclad all day. Sherlock was unbelievably clingy. He followed John everywhere.  
"I told you to wait outside! I wont climb through the window."  
Sherlock was adamant. In return he ate and drank everything, the doctor put in front of him. He took every opportunity to hug John close, to pet and kiss him. It was annoying. Was it? The alpha was especially romantic, so different from Sherlock's logical side.  
"Shower, then bed. Right?"  
The corner of the detective's lips curled up. He let John to wash his hair with pure satisfaction. When Dr Watson wrapped him in a towel, Sherlock catched his hand and looked into his eyes seriously.  
"Nest, John."  
"Yes, you need to sleep."  
Sherlock frowned, but let himself led to the bedroom. John wrapped him with the duvet.  
"John, you come."  
"No, Sherlock. I'll go down to Mrs. Hudson. I'll call your brother."  
"No. You come. To bed."  
John sighed. He will call Mycroft later. Sherlock turned back the duvet. John pressed himself close to Sherlock, he knew it calms him down. The alpha immediately wrapped his arms around his form. John started to stroke his back.  
"Sleep, Sherlock."  
But Sherlock has other idea. He gently turned John underneath him while his nose touched John's scent gland.  
"No, Sherlock!" John started to panic. Sherlock lifted his head up, he watched his omega face intently.  
"Don't you want me, John? Don't you love me?"  
"That's not the problem here! What if you will regret it when you will yourself again?"  
"I never will be separated from you again!"  
"What do you mean?" Watson had a bad feeling.  
"You know, what I mean. That idiot ruined everything! You left! It wouldn't happened if I were with you!" The alpha was angry.  
"You and Sherlock are the same. You are one."  
"Not anymore! He tried to shut me down! I wont let it happen again!" Saw his mate's terrified expression, he changed tactic. "You don't have to be worry, I will take care of you. I love you."  
"But it's not right!" His omega protested.  
"It's the only right thing!" He grabbed John's wrist and pressed them next to his head.  
John started to panic.  
"Don't! Look, I don't say no to the sex. But no mating!" Sherlock growled. "Please! Alpha..."John licked his alpha's chin, he hoped with a little submissive act he can convince him. The tightness on his wrists eased.  
"Turn back John! On your stomach."  
He obeyed. He was scared. Sherlock was inexperienced. Of course, the alpha side helped a lot for his owner with instincts, but a virgin, exited alpha wasn't supposed to be a gentle lover.  
Sherlock stroked his scalp with his fingertips, he went on his back down to the bottom. John's mouth was shut hard, he waited to the penetration. He was dry. It won't do any good. Than he felt a gentle tongue licked into his hole.  
"Oh, God!" Moaned John. "Stop it!" Sherlock only licked him more vehemently. He not only licked his rim, but nipped the skin on the cheeks.  
John started to get wet. When Sherlock realised it, he blanketed John with his own body.  
"I stopped. Are you satisfied, John?"  
"You bastard! You torturing me!"  
"Want me to continue? Ask nicely!" He whispered to his ears.  
"Ugh! Sherlock..." His voice was so small, so desperate. The alpha kissed his nape reassuringly. "Please, I want to..."  
"What do you want, my omega? I'll give you everything."  
"I want you to pleasure me."  
His alpha chest rumbled with joy. He pulled John's hip up so he could touched his cock. He pulled it firmly at the same time he was tender. John moans were loader. It excited his alpha further. He slipped his penis between his omega's arse cheeks, rutted rhythmically while bite angry kisses at his neck.  
Relief came as a tsunami, swept them. Sherlock pulled himself off from John.  
"I'm not done with you! Come, sit on my lap!"  
John done what Sherlock told him, there was a languorous beauty on his face what filled the alpha with adoration. He cuddled him, his doctor pulled his face into Sherlock's neck.  
Sherlock grabbed his hair.  
"I want to kiss you!" He searched his lips.  
John opened his mouth. Sherlock's tongue licked inside his mouth softly. John started to move his hip. He rubbed his cock to the skin of the alpha's stomach.  
"That's it!" His alpha praised him. "So good, John!"  
John ejaculated again.  
"Too much, Sherlock. I can't..."  
"Shh. You're perfect." He lay on the bed with John on his chest. He sight satisfied. He nuzzled John's forehead. "Lovely. You are lovely. I love you so much."  
"I love you too, Sherlock." John muttered.  
"Sleep, John."  
John slept.


	13. Chapter 13

They were lying on the bed, Sherlock's head on John's chest. They did nothing in these few days except feeding, sleeping, showering and sexual activity. Sherlock didn't penetrated him with his cock, but he was really talented with his tongue, and those long fingers. It was long time ago, when John had sex, he started to forget the feeling. As for Sherlock, John suspected he never had sexual connection with anyone.  
"Aren't you boring Sherlock?" He asked, while carded his fingers through the detective's hair.  
"I am with you. Why would I?"  
"Don't you want to move outside? Solving cases?"  
"Cases?" Sherlock raised his head. "I don't care about cases."  
"I just wondered, you might want to do other things..."  
"I want to be with you. For an alpha and omega couple is important to being together."  
"Yes, I know, I just..."  
"Do you love him more?" The alpha asked suddenly.  
"I already told you. I love Sherlock Holmes, the bloody genius and also the alpha part of him."  
"Why do you love me?"  
John sighed.  
"I was so lonely. I felt myself useless. But when I met you, and we started to solve mysteries together, and you healed my psychosomatic limp..." Maybe it wasn't the right thing to say, it happened with the intellectual part of Sherlock after all, but the alpha only smiled.  
"Yes, I'll heal you." He smoothed John's ribs with his hand, while he also paid attention to the doctor's nipples.  
John sighed again, but now it was a satisfied one. He enjoyed the attention.  
Sherlock's head wandered to south. He slowly approached John's groin.  
John felt his alpha licked and nipped the skin of his inner thigh. His cock hardened. Sherlock licked the tip of it.  
"Ugh!" John raised up his hip.  
Sherlock swallowed his cock immediately.  
"God, Sherlock!" He grabbed his lover's hair, and trusted deeper in his mouth. "Sorry! It's too good."  
Sherlock purred. He gingerly pushed one of his finger into John's hole.  
John felt a little discomfort, but Sherlock's talented tongue distracted his attention from it. Sherlock sucked him more intense, when he felt John's channel started to constrict around his finger.  
The doctor moaned loudly as he ejaculated into Sherlock's mouth. The alpha swallowed his semen smugly.  
John panted, his eyes were closed. Sherlock leaned above him. John counted on the kiss, he wondered what would he taste like on his alpha's tongue. But John felt copper mixed with salt. What the... He looked up, then he saw the blood on Sherlock's lips.  
"What have you done?"  
Mixed blood and saliva was important during mating, it wasn't the same, but near thing. Loophole. Bloody alpha!  
"I told you, I told you... You cant make this decision without me!"  
"I made the right thing. Why are you angry?" He frowned." It's about him, isn't it? You put me in the corner because of him!"  
"Don't play Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde! You know my feelings. You are... Sherlock is complicated, and I doubt bonding behind his back will make any good."  
"It's not a proper bond, but it's useful."  
"I doubt it."  
"You will see I'm right."

John woke up alone in the bed. It was strange. He always got up before Sherlock to found him possessively wrapped around his body. Instead he was found in the sitting room, sat on his chair wearing his robe.  
"Sherlock?" John reached out his hand toward him, but the detective pulled back, before he could touch him.  
The recognition hit him like a rock. And still he stood in the room naked.  
He slowly took his way to the stairs, up to his room. He felt frozen. He just sat on his bed, he felt more lonely than ever.

'He is sad. I knew he will be. You are useless after all.' The alpha inside him was very vigorous.  
"Shut up! You did enough! Leave me alone!" Sherlock felt he has two different personality, and his alpha was louder as ever.  
'Go after him! I want to be sure, he is okay.'  
"Of course, he is okay. Why wouldn't he?"  
'He is missing me. I feel it. I want to be with him now! Go or I'll force you!'  
Sherlock felt a sudden pressure in his head.  
"Stop it!"  
'Than do what I say!'  
"You can't control me!"  
'You did the same with me, so watch me!'  
"That's enough!" John's voice was rigid. He stood on the stairs, worn a jumper with jeans. He heard Sherlock arguing himself, and it upsets him. "You two want a lobotomy? Cause I can arrange it!"  
'My John is nervous. Stand up, cuddle him! Cuddle and scent him, it would calm him.' But Sherlock stayed motionless.  
"My alpha said, you wanted me back."  
"I want all of you, Sherlock. But it's impossible, because you make it difficult! My intention is clear. What is yours?"  
"I don't know how to do a relationship, John." Sherlock said quietly. He saw John's naked form was covered with love bites, his alpha took advantage on his blogger, and Sherlock himself didn't even remembered it. It made him mad.  
"Then let your alpha guide you, for God's sake!" Sherlock seemed considering it, finally he stood up. He went to John, and cuddled him.  
John nestled close to him. Sherlock buried his nose into John's hair, it was so reassuring.  
But then, he felt something strange.  
"John, you smell..."  
"I smells like you, Sherlock."  
"Yes, I feel that too, but I feel something else." He sniffed deeply. "It smells like sunflower field, old parchment and clove."  
John looked up Sherlock with disbelieve in his eyes.  
"It couldn't be!"  
"It's you, John!"  
"Your alpha healed me!"


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. The text is dense again. I'm sorry, but I didn't want to change it in the middle of the story, it would be queer. But if I'll write a new story, it will be more space between the lines :)

Soon John was also able to smell. He was aware the person by it's odour. Mrs. Hudson smelled like lavender, Molly like cherry blossom. Greg's scent was similar to gunpowder, very different from Mycroft's ink and chocolate cake aura. But none of them was as pleasant for John as Sherlock's fresh, wood after rain smell. John liked this scent on himself, and Sherlock usually scented him, but it was more his alpha's act, like the detective's. He returned to his cases. So John found himself on a crime scene. Triple homicide. Sherlock seemed exited, he clearly missed the work. Lestrade stood by John.  
"How are you?"  
"Fine." What else could he say?  
"Your smell... very interesting. I also smell Sherlock's on you, but it can't covers yours. Your recovery is a miracle. Maybe you two destined be together."  
"Don't be ridiculous Greg."  
"You sounds like Sherlock." Lestrade fell silent for a minute. " I divorce."  
"I'm so sorry."  
"Would you like to drink a beer with me after this?"  
"Of course. I also need it."  
"John comes home with me." A deep voice grumbled from behind. Before John could turned around, Sherlock grabbed his hip and dug his fingers on it.  
"I'll go with Greg to the pub."  
"No, you wont."  
"You can't tell me what to do!" Sherlock rubbed his chin to John's head. John pinched the bridge of his nose. "You can stop it."  
"He is an alpha John! You can't go with him."  
"He is also my friend. He needs me. We will chat. You can also come."  
But Sherlock only wanted to go home, working on the case.  
"Then go, I'll be home soon."

Sherlock went home, but he can't concentrate on the case. His alpha was also restless.  
'Another alpha will steal him from us!'  
"Lestrade is dull. John would never interested about him."  
'Still he is with him. You are doing something wrong.'  
Sherlock inhaled deep breaths, his alpha upset him. He wanted to shout, shooting to the wall, wrecking something, but John would be angry.  
When he finally came home, Sherlock's eyes were rabbit red, his chest heaved, he trembled.  
"The hell?" He quickly checked him. "What's wrong?" Sherlock pressed his head to John's abdomen. "What is this tantrum about? You scared me. It was only a drink with a friend. It doesn't matter he is an alpha." John massaged his scalp.  
"I don't know how to do this right. I'm trying."  
"I know. I appreciate it." John kissed his head.  
"My alpha is speaks and speaks in my head, but it doesn't really help."  
"Trust me. I won't cheat or leave you. We deal this together."  
The doctor cupped his face and kissed his lips. Sherlock sighed relieved.

Idyll didn't last long. All of a sudden Moriarty sent a message for Sherlock.  
"Come and play. Tower Hill. Jim Moriarty X."  
Tower of London, Pentonville Prison and the Bank of England were all broken into at the same time by him. He taunted Sherlock with his graffitied GET SHERLOCK at the scene of the crime.  
Sherlock was named as a witness for the prosecution.  
It was only a big show. Moriarty found not guilty by the jury. So Sherlock made tea.  
Moriarty's presents in his nest wasn't only unsettling. Sherlock could barely hold his alpha back.  
'He hurt my omega. I want to rip his throat out!'  
Moriarty didn't bothered himself, he sat on Sherlock's armchair.  
"Admit it, you missed me. You need me. Without me you are nothing. We are the same, expect you are boring, here on the side of the angels."  
"You blackmailed the jury."  
"I got into the Tower of London. It was child's play. Have you told your little friends yet?"  
"Tell them what?"  
"Broke into all of those places and never took anything..."  
"You didn't take anything because you don't need to. Nothing in the Bank of England, the Tower of London or Pentonville prison could possibly match the value of the key you opened all of the places."  
"My key can open any door anywhere. A few tiny lines of computer code. The man with the key is king, and honey you should see me in a crown." Moriarty straightened himself like a peacock.  
"For the trial you showed what you can do."  
"Government's intelligence communities, terror cells, they all want me."  
"Would you care about the highest bidder."  
"I don't. I just like to watch them all competing. Aren't ordinary people adorable? Well you know, you've got John."  
'Don't you dare say his name!' His alpha growled. John's name on Moriarty's lips seemed a threat. The alpha couldn't tolerate that, but Sherlock controlled that part of him.  
"You don't need money or power. So what is this all about?"  
"I want to solve the problem. Our final problem. It's gonna start very soon Sherlock. The fall. But don't be scared. Falling just like flying, except there's a more permanent destination."  
Sherlock stood up.  
"I never liked riddles."  
Moriarty also stood up, like he wanted to match their heights.  
"Learn to, cuz I owe you for sure."

Mycroft tried to handle Moriarty with his method. It was the beginning of the end.  
The American ambassador's children were kidnapped. He wanted Sherlock on the case. The game began. Only it was Moriarty's game. When they finally found the children, one of them screamed like hell when she saw Sherlock. Like she knew him as her kidnapper. Soon also the Yard started to think Sherlock got something to do with it.  
The only opinion what mattered to Sherlock was John's.  
"Do you think I'm a cheater? This is why you are sad? You think I tricked you too? Moriarty manipulates all of you! Don't you see what's going on?" In the end of his speech he shouted and hit the table.  
"I know you."  
"Are you sure?" If you don't trust me, I can't fight.  
"Nobody can pretend all the time he is an annoying dick."  
Suddenly Sherlock could breath again. It would be fine. He just didn't knew how.


	15. Chapter 15

Lestrade came to arrest him. John was apparently nervous. He punched the chief inspector on the face so hard, his nose started to bleed. Sherlock was proud. They ran hand by hand as fugitives from the police. The newspapers were full of with false accusations: Sherlock : The socking truth, Close friend Richard Brook tells all. Exclusive from Kitty Riley. Who the hell is Richard Brook? Only one person knew the answer: Kitty Riley.  
Kitty was a little surprised when she saw her two uninvited guests on her couch, but her shock was nothing compared to the detective's and his blogger's when Jim Moriarty appeared in Kitty's flat as Richard Brook.  
"So he is your source! Moriarty is Richard Brook!" Told John.  
"His name is Richard Brook. Moriarty is not real. He never exists." Kitty explained to John as she talked to a confused little kid. "Just look at him! Richard Brook is an actor hired by Sherlock Holmes to play Moriarty."  
"Dr. Watson, I know you are a good man..." Moriarty started his speech, but John interrupted him.  
"Don't lie! You are Moriarty! We met when you put a bomb on me!"  
"I'm so sorry!" He babbled perplexedly. "He hired me." Pointed to Sherlock." I needed money, I'm an actor..."  
"Sherlock, would you please explain me, because I don't understand!" John turned to him, but Sherlock was too angry to do something else as snarling viciously to Moriarty.  
"I will explain everything in print." Kitty said as she shoved a dossier to John with full of articles. "Sherlock is a fake, he invented all the crimes. He invented James Moriarty, his enemy."  
"Don't be ridiculous! He was brought before a court!"  
"Course, because Sherlock Holmes payed for him and also bought the juries."  
"I'm so sorry!" Told Moriarty for John again.  
"So this is the big story? Moriarty is an actor." John shook his head.  
"I have a proof! Show him Kitty!"  
In that moment it was a big show for John. Sherlock knew Moriarty wanted to uncertain his friend, his mate, his omega. It would broke him, if John would left, because he believed what Jim Moriarty told him.  
"Tell him! Tell him the truth! It's over now." Said Moriarty. Sherlock radiated with rage. "Don't touch me!"  
"Stop it!" Sherlock yelled.  
Moriarty quickly retreated as he ran up the stairs and jumped out of the window.

"He planned it thoroughly." Sherlock paced up and down on the street. "People will believe him because he incorporated the truth with his lies. I have to do something."  
"May I help you?"  
"No!" Sherlock firmly refused his help. He got him into enough trouble already. "Go home John!" He used his alpha voice, it was a command.  
He stepped close to John and bent his head down. He gently nuzzled his temple, rubbed his cheek to John's. His mind chanted JohnJohnJohnJohnJohn. He should do the hardest step first: leave John. 

Come and play.  
Bart's rooftop.  
SH  
Moriarty listened Stayin' alive from Bee Gees, when Sherlock arrived.  
"Finally we are here. Only you and me, Sherlock. And the final big problem. Staying alive. Sooo boring, don't you think? All my life I hunted for great games, and you were fun. But now you are not entertaining me anymore, cause I defeated you. And you know what? It was child's play. Now I can go back to the ordinary people, and you are one of them as I found."  
"Richard Brook. As Reichenbach in German."  
"The case what made you famous. And what did you found out about the computer code?"  
"It's a binary code..." Started Sherlock, but Moriarty rubbed his forehead dissatisfied.  
"No, no, no!!! It's too simple. There is no binary code you stupid! I'm so disappointed!"  
"But how did you..."  
"It was a simple burglary. All I needed was few pander. I knew you will fall for it."  
Sherlock's head started to ache. Moriarty couldn't got him again that easily.  
"You choose a appropriate place to the final act."  
For what? Sherlock blinked.  
"Oh, for my suicide."  
"The genius detective is only a cheater. I read in the newspaper, then it's true. I love the journalism."  
"I can prove Richard Brook is fake."  
"Don't bother."  
Sherlock grabbed Moriarty's coat at his collar, and pushed him towards the edge of the roof.  
"You are sick!"  
"Let me encourage you! If you wouldn't, my assassin will kill your precious omega."  
The blood run out from Sherlock's face. No! Not John!  
"You can't stop if, unless my man see you fall."  
Before he could realise what he was doing, Sherlock sharp fangs were in Moriarty's throat. The criminal's crimson blood spurted everywhere. When Sherlock could hold back his alpha, Moriarty lied dead, his eyes bulged. Sherlock breathed hard. What should he do now? He stood at the edge of the roof. He looked down. He saw John gets out from a cab. He reached for his phone. He has to speak with John for a last time.  
"Sherlock? Are you all right?" John asked immediately as he picked up his mobile.  
"John! Stop! Go back and look up! I'm on the roof."  
"Oh, my God!" John paled as he saw Sherlock's form up on the building. "What's going on?"  
"I apologize. Everything they told it's true. I created Moriarty."  
"Why do you tell me this?"  
"I'm a fake." Sherlock lips trembled. He never wanted John thinking him this way. He wanted John would be proud of him. Tears rolled from his eyes. His alpha cried too.  
"When we first met, you knew everything about me."  
"Nobody can be that smart."  
"Only you could."  
Oh, faithful John! How much I love you! He had to smile.  
"I investigated." Sniffled Sherlock. "Before we met. It was a trick."  
"Enough!"  
"John, look at me! I want you to knew, you were perfect to me. I want you to be safe. Be happy. Good bye John!"  
"Don't!"  
Sherlock dropped the phone. He took a final look at John, and fell.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, hello again!  
> This chapter is managed to short. I had no more inspiration for this, but I didn't want to wait any longer with the updating.

The funeral was spent in a blur to John. He still saw Sherlock's dead body before his eyes. Sherlock in blood. All of his beautiful face, and his soft black curls were covered in red. He touched his hand to check the pulse, but other people carried away him from Sherlock. Was his hand always that cold? He didn't remember.  
He didn't remember how to got home or how to spent days, weeks, weekends...  
Few weeks later he visited Sherlock's grave with Mrs. Hudson. Her eyes watered while John only stared numbly.  
"I am so angry!" Mrs. Hudson said suddenly.  
"I'm angry too." It was the firs sentence he told since Sherlock's death.  
He was angry, yes. Why he had to kill himself? What was all the stupid thing he said?  
"The mess and the noise he made! Body parts in the fridge!" She started to be hysterical. "I go now. Leave you alone with him." She went.  
John wanted to tell so many things to Sherlock, he didn't know where to start.  
"Once you told me, you are not a hero, but you were the wises and best man I knew. And nobody can convince me you are lied. That's all. I was so lonely, I own you so much! I only wish you wouldn't be dead!" He broke up with tears.  
He turned around to leave, but then he saw Mycroft Holmes behind his back.  
"Sorry to interrupt Dr. Watson. I do wish to exchange a few words with you."  
"It's not the right time."  
"It never will be. You close yourself from the whole world. You are depressed again. I know an excellent therapist..."  
"I don't want a therapist!" John blew up at Mycroft.  
"Before you met with Sherlock, you considered your own suicide. If you did, you would never known him. I know you see everything in dark now, but good things will wait for you, if you give yourself time." Good things? What good things? John looked at Mycroft as he would be crazy. "I remind you I have cameras in the flat. I recommend you don't do any stupid. Oh, and don't mind search after your gun."  
"You don't have a right to take it!"  
"I have every right." Mycroft told him calmly. "I made a vow to my brother to take care of you."

"How is the case?" MH  
"In progress." SH  
"Be careful!" MH  
"How is John?" SH  
"Don't worry about John! I keep an eye on him. I promised. Concentrate on the case. As soon as you liquidate Moriarty's organization successfully you can return home." MH  
Few minutes passed until Mycroft's phone beeped again.  
"There is something wrong with my alpha." SH  
"What do you mean?" MH  
"It had temper tantrums all the time. It constantly protested against leaving John. Couldn't bear the idea never see him again." SH  
"It's natural. An alpha misses his omega..." MH  
"Yes, but it is quiet for few days." SH  
"At least you can do your job." MH  
"You don't understand! It is in total silence! Like it vanished!" SH  
"I'm sure it is all right, just mourning." MH  
"Sent something from John! I have to know it is fine." SH  
"What do you think?" MH

Sherlock unpacked the box excitedly what Mycroft sent him. He demanded one of John's cloth. A cloth it smelled like him.  
"Look what we have!" He told his alpha.  
He took out a cream coloured jumper of the box. He lifted it to his nose and smelled the scent in.  
Oh, God, how he missed it! He missed John. His dark blue eyes, his warm smile... He ached.  
But inside him nothing made it presence, like his alpha replaced by a deep dark space.  
Sherlock pressed the jumper tight to his chest, curled on his dirty mattress and cried.


	17. Chapter 17

"Sebastian Moran. He is your last target. When you are done with him, you can return back to London." MH  
"Finally!" Sherlock thought.  
Moran is a dead man walking. His time is counted. He is the only barrier between him and the way home.  
"What about your alpha?" MH  
"Nothing." SH  
"So it's state is unchanged." MH  
Sherlock didn't cared. Soon he gonna see John again, and everything would be all right.  
"How is John?" SH  
"John is fine." MH  
"Don't lie to me!" SH  
"I don't lie." MH  
It was the truth. He didn't lied. John was better than before.  
Mycroft only didn't dared to tell his little brother that John is dating with someone.

Mary Morstan worked as an assistant next to John. She was a beta, kind, smart and funny. She dragged John to cinema, took him walking in the city, invited him to have dinner. When John asked:  
"Are we dating?"  
She smiled sweetly and said:  
"We are dating."  
Since he was dated with Mary he could almost forgot Sherlock. Sometimes it felt like cheating. But Sherlock was dead, and it was time to move on.  
John told Mrs. Hudson he would move out from the flat to move together with Mary. He didn't want to Mary live in Baker Street, it just wouldn't be right.  
"So soon after Sherlock." Mrs. Hudson complained. She felt bad about John is leaving.  
It's been two years. Felt like forever without Sherlock. At first his smell was felt on his clothes, furniture, especially on his leather chair. It comforts John a little. But now nothing remained after him. John packed all of Sherlock's stuff in big boxes, even the skull.  
"You did an excellent job, Dr. Watson. Like Sherlock never lived here." It was a cutting remark from Mycroft.  
"I don't remember invited you here." Answered John angrily.  
"You did not mentioned me your intention about leaving this flat."  
"Should I have asked your permission first?"  
"You misunderstand me. How can I watch your back, when I..."  
"You don't have to look after me. It's not your job. You don't own me."  
"I own you for took care of my brother, and I promised him..."  
"I know." John's voice fainted. "But..."  
"But you have a pretty girlfriend now, so you don't need me anymore."  
John snapped again.  
"It's not your business! If you want to be useful, take Sherlock's stuffs away. Mrs. Hudson don't have space for them."  
"And you also can't keep them because of your new lover."  
"Stop that! I loved your brother. I really loved him, but I can't mourn for him forever."  
Mycroft sighed.  
"I understand. I only asking you to stay for a few days more, maybe for a week."  
"What good is it for?" Frowned John.  
"Please, John. Just few more days. For Sherlock."  
John had no idea what the hell Mycroft talks about.  
"Fine. But after that, out paths are separates."  
"Agreed."

Sherlock was shaved and his hair was cut. He worn cleaned clothes. He started to feel himself human again. He lost weights and had wounds on his body, but he didn't mind. He will see John soon. He was exited. He demand a picture of John, and although it was black and white, Sherlock stared it fascinated. Mycroft cleared his throat.  
"I have to tell you something about John."  
Sherlock's expression hardened.  
"What happened with him?"  
"Calm down! He is fine."  
"What's wrong then?"  
"He has someone."  
Sherlock paled. He felt like his heart stopped beating. All the happy lights vanished from his eyes.  
"Don't you worry! I take care about her."  
Sherlock shook his head.  
"John chose her. If he is happy with her, if he is in love..." Sherlock's voice trembled.  
"I investigated after her a little, and a doubt she is the right choose for John."  
Sherlock raised his head with alarm.  
"She worked as an assassin."  
"I asked you to take care of John!" Sherlock raged.  
"And I did. John will never see her again, I guarantee."  
Mycroft would never risked John's wellbeing of course, but he also would never let his little brother be unhappy because of a beta woman.  
"You gather yourself now and go home to John."  
"And if he don't want me anymore?" This option didn't turned in his head till now.  
Mycroft leaned forward to see into his brother's eyes from close.  
"I chose John for you Sherlock. And I'm never wrong. He is yours."


	18. Chapter 18

John was confused. Mary quit her job and left, not only the job but also the city. She wrote a letter to John.

Dear John,  
I know you don't understand what's going on, but I can't stay with you.  
I have a past, you maybe wouldn't understand. Besides you have your own future. I accepted that.  
You'll be safe and happy, I'm certain. I wish for you the best.  
With love, Mary

It was all so sudden. Mary loved her, didn't she? They wanted to move together. What the hell happened?  
Mrs. Hudson's voice also seemed weird, when she called him that day. She told John she has to visit her sister, so John would stay alone in the flat for few days.  
"What else can happen?" Grumped John as he fiddled with his keys.  
Then he realised the door was open. Strange. Yet Mrs. Hudson at home?  
"Mrs. Hudson! I thought you went to your sister!"  
No answer. The flat shrouded in silence. The air was heavy and an unmistakable smell hit his nose.  
"Can't be!"  
John went up the stairs with trembling legs.

Sherlock watched the street from the window. It was odd to being in the flat again, still it was familiar. He was at home, safe and sound. He was waited for John, he couldn't imagine how would the doctor react. Mrs. Hudson screamed and screamed until she fainted. Sherlock didn't assume John would faint. What would John do?  
Finally he saw John at the street as he walked to the flat. His heart beat fiercely. Oh, God! He missed John terribly. He wanted to run to him, hug him close, but he can't. He had to wait to John do the first step. John was in the flat, Sherlock felt it.  
"Come on, come up!" Sherlock urged him without saying it aloud.  
"Sherlock!" Breathed John.  
He stood at the door, frozen.  
"John!"  
The doctor didn't move. He didn't even blink. He looked horrified.  
Sherlock ached for touch him, but he didn't dare. When he took a step towards John uncertainty, John backed away at that moment. He kept the distance between them. It hurt Sherlock.  
The distance is gone in that moment when John jumped at Sherlock so suddenly.  
"You bastard!" He jelled.  
Sherlock found himself laying on the ground and John hit him wherever he could. The detective let him. He didn't even tried protect himself, only clutched John's jacket as he feared John would vanish.  
"How could you?" He gasped for air.  
"I had to John. I had to. Moriarty would have killed you otherwise."  
"It's been two years! You could have given a signal that you were alive!"  
"It wasn't sure I can come back alive."  
John stopped beating him. His expression reflected shock. He wanted Sherlock to be alive of course, but he can't just forgive so simple what Sherlock done to him.  
"I saw you in blood, your head crushed. Can you imagine what was it like? Saw you like that? Of course not. Why would you care?"  
"I care!" Protested Sherlock. "But I couldn't afford myself in that situation to think about it."  
"Who helped you to accomplish your little theatrical performance besides Mycroft?"  
"Molly, and few people of my homeless network."  
"So you trusted better in Molly and few homeless instead of me?" John wasn't only angry, he was deeply disappointed in Sherlock. "Oh, God! Your parents also knew, that's why they didn't came to your funeral."  
"It was necessary for the assassin to believe I died, just as for you. You are, you were my omega. Your reaction mattered the most. Your grief had to seemed real, and I'm sorry but you are not a good actor."  
John's hand clenched into fist.  
"You could have taken me with you."  
"I wanted to protect you, not to risk your life. I had to finish Moriarty's men off, so I can guaranty our safety. If I had died, you could going on with your life, as you did." Sherlock's voice cut like a blade, the acid in his voice was unmistakable.  
John punched him so hard, his nose started to bleed.  
"How dare you blaming me!"  
"I've been thinking about you the whole time. That kept me alive. The thought I can come back to you, that I can be with you."  
"Don't try to blackmail me with feelings!" John stood up. "I think you told me everything you wanted. It's time you to go away, or I will."  
Sherlock was also on his feet, while wiped his nose.  
"I'll go to Mycroft. If you'll need me, you'll found me there."  
"Why would I need you?" John trembled with rage.  
"Right." Sherlock watched the floor, he felt a massive vertigo, so he grabbed the doorframe. He can't cry in front of John. "I excuse for robbing your time."

"Sherlock!"  
John woke up from a terrible nightmare. He saw Sherlock in blood again, lifeless. But Sherlock is alive, isn't he? He was there, wasn't he?  
John was uncertain. He dreamt several times Sherlock came back to him alive, and the awakening was always painful.  
The bedroom's door opened unexpectedly and a familiar figure came in. John sighed with relief, he almost forgot his anger.  
"What are you doing here?"  
"I couldn't stay away from you." Sherlock confessed, his eyes were full with regret and belonging. "So I came back. I still have the keys. I slept on the couch." Instead of waiting for John's reaction, Sherlock offered his coat to the doctor. "The smell of it helps you to relax."  
John hesitated for few seconds, but he accepted the cloth.  
"Can I stay for tonight?" Sherlock asked hopefully.  
"It's also your flat." John's voice was neutral.  
Sherlock went back to the couch.  
John used his room, his bed. It filled Sherlock with satisfaction. It meant something. Maybe he has a chance to make things right.  
Later that night, he heard as John's whining filtered out of the room. He checked the omega.  
John clung to his black coat as he slept. Perhaps he had a bad dream again. So Sherlock carefully lay down next to him and spooned John from behind. The doctor didn't woke up, but he stopped sobbing.  
Sherlock longed for this moment for a long time. He buried his nose in John's hair as he enjoyed the heat flowing from his body.  
"Maybe I'm dead, and this is Heaven." He thought as he slowly fell asleep.


	19. Chapter 19

John found himself tangled with Sherlock when he woke up. Sherlock was on his back, John upper body lay on him, his arms were around the detective, his nose in the detective's neck . Yesterday night he didn't payed attention, but now he felt how thin was Sherlock, thinner then before. The doctor stroked the ribs. Sherlock twitched a little, still asleep. John looked carefully under his shirt, and saw bruises, they did not come from him. Moriarty's men must have caught and tortured him. He wasn't only beaten, he had cuts and burn injuries. His body was still sensitive, is spite of that he let John to beat him and thanks to the doctor, the face of the genius was also swollen. Sherlock's eyes suddenly were open. John moved away from him and got away from the bed.  
"I have to go to work."  
"Of course." Sherlock cleared his throat. "I planned to check in the Yard today. I surprise Lestrade."  
"So he didn't know either." It was a statement so Sherlock didn't answered. "Right, he wasn't an important person in your life either."  
"John..."  
"Thanks the coat by the way. It helped."  
"I knew it would. I slept with your jumper when I was away."  
John shocked again for a moment. He didn't had to thinking on how his jumper got there. He just tried to imagine Sherlock as he sleeping in some dirty place, squeezing his jumper.  
"I really don't have more time to chat."  
John gathered his clothes he planned to wear today, he wanted to get ready to work. He wanted to take a shower and have breakfast. Alone... Sherlock understood the hint. It's time to him to go away.  
"Let me see you again!" Sherlock pleaded. "We could go to dinner at Angelo's."  
"I don't know it's a good idea."  
"Please!" He rarely used that word.  
"What do you expect from me?"  
"I do not expecting anything, I just hoping."

Sherlock's visit on the Yard was successful. Their chin was dropped. Even Lestrade gave him a hug. Everything went too easy, until now.  
He stood in front of Baker Street again, and knocked on the door. It was weird. He never thought he would wait for permission to entry his apartment.  
Soon John opened the door.  
"Are you serious?" He glanced the bouquet of rose in Sherlock's hand. "I agreed to the dinner, but it's not a date." John cleared the situation while he stepped back to the flat to put the roses into a vase.  
"You can't forbid me to court you."  
"Actually I can."  
"Actually you can't." Sherlock smirked. "I read after it in the Alpha-Omega courting etiquette lexicon. You can refuse me, but can't forbid the courtship."  
John couldn't speak for a minute.  
"You reading about Alpha-Omega relationships?" He finally asked in disbelief.  
Sherlock nodded.  
"I deleted it long time ago, so I study again."  
"Sweet." John said coldly. "Pity, it's in vain."  
A muscle twitched in Sherlock's face.  
"Shall we go?"  
They didn’t talk much on the way to the restaurant. Sherlock's courage began to wane. He expected that John would be irritated, but he hoped he can warm his heart a little with endearment. Flowers, dinner with candlelight... Ordinary things for ordinary omegas. John wasn't ordinary, he knew, however Sherlock loved the idea of a proper date. It was too unusual for him. He wanted to know what it feels like with John.  
When they arrived at Angelo's, they sat on their table. Angelo was over the moon he can see Sherlock again.  
They ordered from the menu.  
"How was your day?" Inquired Sherlock.  
"I don't want to bore you with the details of my average life."  
"So you missed our not average life then? That's why you attracted to Mary Morstan. I suppose she brought some excitement to your days."  
John's nostrils flared.  
"I knew you had something to do with her disappearance!"  
"She was an assassin John, she had to leave." Sherlock said while he fiddled with the napkin.  
"No! No, that's impossible!"  
"She had a good reason to hide the truth."  
"Just like you?" A vein throbbed on the doctor's temple. "I've had enough of the lies!" He yelled.  
The other guests in the restaurant started to watch them, meanwhile their dinner arrived.  
John sliced his meal like he wanted to murder the chicken again from which the food was made. Sherlock looked him intensely.  
"Do you love her?"  
"We were together for a year!"  
"We were together more than a year."  
"We were not a real couple." Protested John. "You didn't wanted it. Not really."  
"Because I was terrified! I was terrified my feelings will take place my intellect. I was terrified you will be disappointed in me one day, and leave for another, because I'm not a real alpha, not a good alpha. I didn't know how to make an omega happy, how to make you happy. I only know I want to be the one for you."  
"Aren't you a little bit selfish?"  
"There is no fair play in love."

After dinner Sherlock escorted John home. They stopped in front of the flat.  
"Can I see you tomorrow?" Sherlock asked John hopefully.  
"Please, Sherlock, let me be alone for a few days." He sighed. "I need to think."  
"Right."  
Sherlock knew the doctor needs time, but he couldn't hide the growing feeling of belonging in his stomach.  
He couldn't wait for John to make the first step. He got closer and hugged him. He smelled John's hair. It turned to grey a little, reminding Sherlock of the wasted time. He felt John sniffed into his neck before he wrapped out of his embrace.  
"Good night, Sherlock."  
"Good night, John."


	20. Chapter 20

Sherlock gave no signal from himself for more than two weeks. John missed him, however he was the one who asked more time and space to be alone for thinking. He didn't go much with it. He was still angry, at the same time he felt warmness and regret for him. Deep inside John knew Sherlock suffered the same way as him. There was nothing left but the terrible, aching loss.  
So when he heard a knock on the front door, John was relieved. But instead of a black curly head, a blond one appeared in the flat.  
"Mary!"  
"Hello, John."  
"As if there wasn’t enough complication in my life." Grumbled John under his nose.  
"I think I own you with an explanation."  
"You could have written a letter, as last time."  
"Someone was after me. I could not expose you to danger."  
"Oh! So you left me for my own sake! How surprising!"  
"It's the truth!" She lowered her eyes. "I was an assassin, and someone showed up from my past..."  
"Then not the Holmes brothers blackmailed you?"  
"Well, the older one did. But Sherlock helped me to get rid of from my enemy, so I can come back to you."  
"He did what?" John had to sit down. He didn't understand.  
"He loves you John, he wants you the best."  
"Few weeks ago he said you are the devil yourself."  
"Time is changes, so are we." Mary squatted down in front of John and took his hand. "He said to me if you choose me, he step aside and join to MI6."  
John only gaped like a fish. Sherlock would join to MI6? No! It wouldn't happen!  
He stood up abruptly.  
"Excuse me Mary, but I have to kick someone in the ass."

Mycroft's hose looked like a miniature Buckingham Palace. The older Holmes enjoyed his afternoon tea, when John burst into his home like an enraged bull.  
"Good to see you, Dr. Watson! What can I thanks for your unexpected visit?"  
"Where is Sherlock?" Demanded John.  
"I am afraid, your presence would only confuse him in his job, so I ask you to leave."  
"Was it your idea?" Mycroft lifted his eyebrows up. "MI6"  
Mycroft put his teacup down.  
"The MI6 would place Sherlock in East-Europe, such a secret mission which in Sherlock would die within half a year. Do you really suppose from me I wish my own brother's death?"  
The air stuck in John. Dread crawled in his skin.  
"Why the hell would Sherlock..."  
"I think you know the answer exactly." Mycroft interjected. "He would rather die, than watch you with another person."  
"It's ridiculous! He was the one who brought back Mary anyway."  
"Because he loves you, and he thinks you love her."  
John exhaled deeply.  
"I need to speak with him!"  
"John!" Sherlock's deep voice came from behind him.  
John turned and faced with the genius. Sherlock nodded at his brother and started to led the doctor towards the corridor. His room placed at the end of it.  
"So that's it?" Asked John as soon as Sherlock closed the door. "You just give up after two trial, because I didn't fall in your arms immediately?  
"I called her back to figure out what do you really feel. If you wanted to be with Mary, you wouldn't be here." Sherlock smirked.  
"So you manipulated me!"  
"I don't manipulate you!" Sherlock yelled. "I did it for you, only you. Because how I feel about you. I already told you why I hesitated to respond your feelings. I was also attached to you, and it scared me. But when I wasn't with you…" He slowly approached towards John and stopped right in front of him. John felt the detective's hot breath on his face. "Do you really think it was easy to me? I did what you expected from me: acted like a hero. I sacrificed my freedom, my comfortable life in London, everything what was important to me for you!" Sherlock looked deep into the doctor's eyes. "My intensions are clear..."  
Sherlock couldn't finish the sentence, because John grabbed his collar and pulled Sherlock's face to his.  
Sherlock would be a liar, if he had said he expected the kiss, but he returned it enthusiastically. He opened his mouth for John's demanding tongue. It was too exciting, he felt dizzy. Before he could lost his mind in delight, he felt a sudden sharp pain on his lips.  
John bit him and it wasn't a playful bite. Sherlock licked his lips and tasted blood. He growled.  
Before John could realize what is happening, Sherlock threw him on the giant bed and lay on top of him. He licked into the doctor's mouth immediately and rubbed his groin to the other man's. John moaned loudly, raised his hips, totally forgot he should protest. The pleasure was so intense, he could cry. This was Sherlock, his alpha, the man he loved. He still loves him. Of course he loves him. He would always loves him, now and forever, no matter what would happen or what he would do... The bastard!  
Sherlock rutted against him like a wild animal, his lips wandered from John's lips to his neck. He sucked and nipped the skin while took deep breaths of his omega's scent.  
"Yes, yes, yes!" Sherlock chanted.  
He hold John close and turned them so they lay on their sides. Sherlock put John's legs around his hips and hugged him tight, petting his hair. He waited until John started to rub his groin against his.  
"That's it love! So good!" He praised John.  
He grabbed his omega's bottom, and trusted between his legs firmly. John mewled in ecstasy.  
Sherlock cowered his mouth with John's as he felt he would explode soon. He trusted few more with his hips, came into his pants. He knew from his rapid breaths, that John came too.  
"I hate you!" The doctor gasped.  
Sherlock lay on him again, peppered his face with kisses.  
"You won't join to MI6! Never!"  
Sherlock smiled.  
"Give me a good reason to stay then."  
John wanted to hit him, but he was too exhausted and relaxed from their lovemaking. Sherlock kissed him once more. It was soft, gentle, sensual.  
"Mate with me!"


End file.
